


Dedication

by Elathepenn



Series: Dedication - In Love [1]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, Awkward Boners, But they need her, Edging, Everybody gets laid but not always by the person they want, F/M, I really applied too much bullshit logic, Minor!Aranea/Cindy, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Rated E for everyone wants to fuck Reader, Sassy humor, Sex Dreams, She doesn’t need a man, Slow Burn, Strong independent reader, Teacher/Student, URST, Unrequited!Noctis/Reader, Unrequited!reader/prompto, When your teacher is your friend but also your teacher, guilty masturbation, non-canon magic, this is going to be a wild ride
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-19
Updated: 2019-06-15
Packaged: 2019-10-31 06:42:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 93,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17844383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elathepenn/pseuds/Elathepenn
Summary: It had taken an enormous amount of hard work to get into this position. The study of magic under Dr. Nox Fleuret is one of the most coveted lab positions at Insomnia University— perhaps in all of Eos. He may have a scandalous past with one of his previous students, but you weren’t going to let that happen anyway, so there was nothing to ruminate on regarding that.And, sure, you had assistance from the up-and-coming Dr. Scentia to get into his class senior year. You kept taking classes with him just so Dr. Nox Fleuret would notice you but, your similarities won’t sway you to diverge away from your childhood dreams. Even if Dr. Scentia could read your mind like an open book, which was incredible. There have been so few people in your life that share your passion for magic.And why was he asking you to call him Ignis when you weren’t in the classroom? Best not to think of it right now— No matter how distracting his hand was when he put it on your shoulder.After all, you weren’t handed this opportunity.  You earned it.





	1. D is for Damn It!

How exactly had you gotten stuck in this situation? 

Behind door number one, kindness, an engaging discussion, and one of the most attractive men you have ever had the pleasure of looking at. No— No that is not part of your decision making process for your future. You will not let your libido decide what will happen for the rest of your life, ever. However, he is encouraging and makes sure that you pursue your wildest concepts. It’s promising and engaging and you love it. But you two had such similar minds and ideas. He would support your project, and go above and beyond to make sure it maintains funding. Would that really be enough to make sure you press past yourself? Should you make this easy?

Behind door number two… well that is an entirely different beast. He challenged you, and continues to keep you sharp. The debates are energetic and at times frustrating. He is the reason you even decided to go to this school. Nevermind the fact that he has some of the softest looking hair you’ve ever seen. Really, never mind that. You watched in despair as heterochromic eyes kissed by magic made quick work of your thesis and ripped it to shreds. It was defeating, and energizing. He was already well funded, and you could possibly get to another level under his tutelage. It would take years.

 

Fuck.

 

Just a deep breath in, and a few steps upwards into the building and you’re brought back to the first moments of your decision making process.  Had it really already been three years? You realize you’re wearing the same outfit you had put on in order to solidify your first impression, and can’t help but laugh at your predictability. In some ways, this would be a new beginning.

 

—[Three years earlier]—

 

This is satisfaction incarnate. You survived your first year of bullshit classes, and if you kept up your current work ethic you may be able to continue ranking as Valedictorian. It was proof that you belonged here, and not in the near-slums of your childhood home. No, that was behind you now, and you’re ready to continue to prove your worth. 

You’d heard rumors of Dr. Nox Fleuret ruining prestigious rankings for many students but, perhaps you could break that standard. Although, if the rumors about the new instructor were anything to go by, Dr. Scentia would be handing you your own ass with his strict policies and grading. But you were in luck. You’d read everything he’d published in the past four years, and as the expression goes, great minds think alike. He was unusually tenacious, sometimes coming out with two or more papers a year, and you were more excited than you wanted to let on.

As first impressions can get stretched well beyond the start of any interaction, you had plans to make sure yours would be as flawless as possible. The smell of new technology, paper, and ink waft out of your messenger bag as you shove a sack-lunch inside, ready to start your first day of sophomore year.

Giving another polish to your, as you liked to call them, commander boots, you were set up just right for a day in lab. Or, more likely the discussion of Magic. That beautiful, enigmatic subject that lead to worlds of confusion, theory, debate and even better, unexplored possibilities. A touch of black leather donning the shoulders of your jacket, you had on your makeshift armor to attack the day with a fervor. Never mind that half-way through this semester you would be walking in wearing pajama pants and over-loved sneakers.

With the attack plans laid out, you got on the bus that would deposit you in front of the school you worked so hard to get to. 

Insomnia University, where dreamers wake up their full potential. A terrible slogan, but if their ratios towards success were to be believed, an entirely accurate statement.

Your name was called out with more excitement than you had anticipated, an arm grabbing you and throwing you slightly off balance. Best to blame the over-encumbered messenger bag rather than your delightful blond friend for your stumble.

“Prompto! Are you feeling prepared?” The words came out with too much excitement, wrapping your arms around his waist in a quick hug. You checked your watch to make sure you still had time. 14.5 minutes, good. You could afford pleasantries. What were you saying, you’d always make time for Prompto.

“As ready as I’ll ever be!” You deflected the hand that wanted to make you unruly. He snapped a quick photo of you on what looked to be new hardware. Complimenting it as you walked towards your destination, he was abuzz with just enough excitement for you two to build off of each other. It was weird luck that they placed the arts and science buildings so near one another. Some claim that creativity and science are interlocked. But they weren’t _that close._

“What are you doing over here anyway?” The comment was meant to be playfully prying, but your mood shifted as you realized, for the last five minutes you hadn’t spoken to the person that was following you two.

“Oh yeah! You remember Noct from last year right? We’re roommates this year so I figured we could just walk together to get to classes!”

It was _fucking_ **_Noctis Lucis Caelum_**. That richer than the astrals asshole was able to use practical magic like it was his gods-given birthright. You’d seldom been more jealous of someone in your whole life. And he barely worked for it! He slept through classes and the _teachers loved him._ You wanted to bite back the words and just will him to leave, but his awkward wave paired with his unkempt bed-head being ruffled by his own hand— well the commentary just came out. 

“Yeah?” You grabbed the front of his button-up shirt and began to fix it without conscious effort. How dare he come in slovenly and lower expectations for himself. No, he was going to go in there just as sharp as you were and they were going to expect more from him. “What’s your first class, _Noctis,”_ Yeah _._ Use his full name, you know he hates that. That will show him.

His face was flushed from the first spring heat as he began to open his mouth to finally say something. You checked your watch as he spoke, implying both that he shouldn’t waste your time, and considering if there was enough time to go grab some water for him and ebony for you. You were getting close, about 9 minutes and fifteen seconds before class. Well, technically 19 minutes but you wanted to get there early and snag a good seat in the second row. You quickly hugged Prompto goodbye cutting your rival off for a second time with more pleasant goodbyes to your friend. As you moved forward you waved Noctis on to follow, not waiting to see if he would.

“Theoretical Elemancy 02. Apparently the teacher is an absolute asshole,” finally, the fucker found his words after clearing his throat for the third time. You let out a heavy sigh after acknowledging that you to were headed to the same class. His comment made another student pause as the three of you made your way to the vending machines.

“Yeah, that’s Professor Scentia in a nutshell, if the rumor mills are to be believed,” you comment, hoping to put some fear in him. Anything to get him to shape up, “He’s ready to bend you over and fuck you with a ruler as soon as you do anything wrong. Even down to punctuality, Noctis,” you laughed with a broad grin coming to your face, ordering an Ebony first, then a water next. The small red light of ‘sold out’ blinked on next to the ebony button. The third student lingering in line behind you crossed his arms with impatience but he could wait. You needed this shit to survive. And there’s Noctis looking anywhere but your face. Excellent. You shoved the water into his arms.

“Is he now?” A smooth and stunning accent comes from the crossed armed student behind you. This guy— This guy knows what he’s doing. His hair is combed down onto his head, not sticking out, but not blending in either. A pinstriped shirt fits his figure almost too well and he hides his physical dedication under a simple black suit coat. A small skull necklace says hello from the middle of his collar bones and it makes him interesting. Oh no, that was a blatant checkout. Looking back to his eyes, wildly green and piercing yet frustratingly hidden behind simple glasses, you canted your hip towards him.

“Oh yeah. I ended up helping an upperclassman in his class while she was bawling her eyes out. She ended up changing majors afterwords,” stop it. Stop the flirtatious body language. Okay, yes, you can play with your hair just a little bit but don’t look him up and down again. Gods he’s so serious. It’s delicious.

“Indeed. Well, I suppose I’ll have to keep my eye out for this _Professor,_ ” he comments, his tone a little more sharp than you expected.

Then you looked at him again. First day, no bag. Not your age, but only slightly older— the hairstyle throwing you off. You felt your body starting to go rigid as you realized your mistake. Why wasn’t he breaking eye contact? 

You shoved your hand out in offering of a handshake and instead looked like you were offering him your ebony. You needed to kill your suspicions. Introducing yourself with the stiffest smile you’ve ever given, you will him to not say what you are dreading coming from his mouth. In fact, your watch goes off, beeping the alarm that you have 10 minutes until class starts, “Oh I have to go, I want to get a good seat in the classroom,” you look to the side at Noctis, who doesn’t seem to understand what exactly is happening between you two. All he’s seen is this… guy take an ebony from your hands as you very awkwardly introduce yourself, then cut him off from the chance to reciprocate. Perhaps he’s slightly more pensive in his glance than you’re giving him credit for, but you can’t be too sure. 

It was time to escape and will the facts not to be true. But the evidence— It was all laid out before you as the ‘student’ walked into class, writing his name in script that matched his posture: stiff, elegant, and practiced. A new ebony was placed on your desk when Noctis sat down next to you, drinking the water you had given him already. You couldn’t manage a thank you as your fears materialized into the man you had insinuated would take you sexually over his desk with a ruler finished writing his name out his name on the chalkboard.

“My name is Professor Ignis Scientia,” he looked directly at you for a moment before scanning the room, “rest assured that there will be no need for rulers in this classroom. However, I will be measuring you against my strict guidelines,” the class shifted slightly in their seats, one or two soft chuckles from the back of the room.

You swallow hard as he looks at you again. So much for first impressions.

 

—

 

The fact was, this course was just as fantastic as you had hoped it would be. It didn’t take you long to get over the awkward moment of the initial meeting. You commonly found yourself in a debate with him, unable to hold yourself back. It was more heated than you had intended it, but he seemed more game than you had anticipated. It was absolutely delightful. Perhaps your first impression wasn’t salvageable but you were alright with being seen as a stubborn foul-mouthed student. It honestly felt like you could just be yourself.

“Though, there are material reasons why using food items may lead curative properties in magic, there seems to be a disconnect in regard to the fact that not just any plant-based item will guarantee that it will heal the user,” He was referencing his second paper. It was strangely revolutionary in its simplicity.

“Fucking Leiden Peppers and their capsaicin,” you comment scratching down more notes. He snaps, pointing at you, a smile forming on his face. With a bounce in his step he nods as he shuffles a few paces.

“Indeed! The lack of healing is in direct correlation to the crystalline, stable alkaloid known as capsaicin within the heated treat,” he adjusts his glasses as he began to write out the formula on the chalkboard. If you’d known him any better you would think he was trying to recompose himself, “When ingested normally, it can release endorphins, increase cardiovascular circulation, and it has even been used as a repellent against pests. When distilled into elemancy, the effects are released at about 1000 fold. It’s not a terribly effective magic, but the curse it inflicts can be felt in the rushing of blood, confusion, and loss of breath,” he did not find much success in calming down it seems, as his penmanship on the chalkboard ends in a flourish.

“He’s acting like he’s reliving the last time he used it as a sexual enhancement spell,” Noctis whispers leaning over to you. You have to hold back a snort at the comment. Covering your hand over your mouth you glare at him, his smirk dying on his face. He’s not allowed to come up with completely legitimate uses, and be funny at the same time. Augh! He’s good enough at elemancy that he could probably make something like that and it would work. Beyond that, you don’t want to think of your professor straining and out of breath. It was already distracting enough when he took off his jacket. To abandon the image you return your hyper focus to your notes, choosing not to look up for the rest of the lecture.

“Just because you need help in the bedroom doesn’t mean he does,” you comment offhand, a little too delayed to be a snappy reply, but it does the job and Noctis is sinks is his seat at your side eye. You hear your professor lose his train of thought for just a moment before continuing writing on the board. His healing focused lecture now gravitated towards grains in elemancy and how the elasticity of the gluten is directly related to the potency of the magic.

 

—

 

Alright! Your first _real_ assignment! Time to knock this shit out of the park and prove you understand elemancy better than anyone else in the classroom. The assignment was simple: turn in a two page minimum document about a healing ingredient with the reasons on why it would work effectively. Since Professor Scientia was the gatekeeper for your desired professor, the illustrious Dr. Nox Fleuret, you were going to go well above and beyond. Now you just had to get to work.

However, Prompto had asked for your assistance in his first assignment himself, so you found yourself studying and writing under too many lights with more makeup on than you would normally wear. Of course, Noctis was part of the shoot too. Always stealing time away from you and your Prom.

The thematic of his first photography assignment was “Dedication, in Love” and he had set it up to be a double meaning between your focus on your love of magical study, and some bullshit relationship thing. Why it had to be Noctis on the other side of the table from you, you would never know. You didn’t have the heart to tell Prompto his photo would bomb because you had less chemistry with Noct than a mixture of salt and dirt.

Prompto framed you in his fingers, closing one eye for better perception and walked over to one of the four textbooks surrounding you. He went to turn the page to have it open into the middle, and you slapped your hand down on it.

“Hey, I thought you said I could work while you did the shoot!” You frowned up at him, hoping the pathetic nature of it would make him break. You hadn’t gotten a 1-on-1 hangout with him since he started hanging with Noctis, and it was making you feel bitter and pathetic. You **hated** it and missed your friend. Conversations always ended up stilted and guarded around your black-haired nemesis.

He smiled at you, and you sulked. Regardless of your protest, he went ahead and flipped to the random page on top of your hand, “Come on, it’s all perfect except for the fact that you look like you’re only just starting in your reading. I want you to look dedicated and absorbed. Besides, I know you’ve finished this chapter already,” he leaned in popping your shoulder with his opposite hand.  What a sucker-punch. He fake frowned at you and you tried to hide your smile by tightening your lips, but the laugh was already in your eyes. He clicked a small button in his hand. He had gotten a new piece for his new camera, and it instantly took a photo. Your trying hard-not-to-smile face was now captured digitally.

“So, are we going to do this?” Noct asked, interrupting yet another bonding moment between you and your Prom. A big fake smile betrayed more animalistic tendencies as you bared your teeth into the sky, raising both your eyebrows returning back to your laptop. You refused to acknowledge how he shifted uncomfortably as Prompto quickly got back into position. 

Words started to fall flat on deaf ears as you read the passage that Prompto opened up to. You felt almost like magic itself was pulling you forward. Your face relaxed, mouth opening slightly as you leaned over the book, reading the page over and over again before finally moving on to absorb the remaining few pages of the chapter. The adrenaline rush of concepts overlapping felt overbearing.

 

Is this… A eureka moment?

 

Noctis’s hand touches your arm as he tries to get your attention. You look up at him, almost overwhelmed by the meta-possibilities that this passage has unlocked. Without thinking you ask, “Noct, what do you think the crystal is made out of?” A huge smile on your face. An awkward smile perks up on his own. Suddenly you’re aware of of the sound of a shutter clicking furiously as it had been for the past few minutes. Your brow furrows and you frown, “What?” 

“You called me Noct,” he leans back in his chair, smug smile crossing his face as he leans back, “we’re friends, you can’t deny it.”

 You go to slam the book shut, but close your eyes hard and hesitate for a second. Sucking in the negative feelings behind your teeth you look to Prompto and ask if you can go, “I think I’ve really stumbled onto something here and I need to research this without distraction,” you gesture your eyes towards Noct at the exact moment Prom takes one last photo.

 He looks ridiculously delighted, “Sure, dude. Thanks for making the time to hang today— wish you could stay longer to look through the photos but I’ll send you the best ones,” he was already walking with his camera over to his laptop. You refused to acknowledge the daemon in the room, packing up all your textbooks and laptop into a seriously over-encumbered messenger bag.

“See you tomorrow morning, I assume?” You call out to Prompto.

“You know it,” a disembodied voice replies from the opposite side of the table. You decide to just give Prom a gentle ass-slap for a goodbye as you walk out the door.

 

—

 

“She protests way too much. I think she likes me,” Noct comments as soon as the door shuts, getting up with a stretch and walking over to his friend. Prompto rolls his eyes and pulls up a photo.

“I think she might actually hate you, dude. The photos don’t lie,” he points to her scowling at him in a photo. And another one, and one where it looks like she doesn’t even notice he exists but he seems desperate for her attention as he reaches for her arm. This one was probably the winner. Perfect.

“Oh yeah, what about…” he pans between photos for a few moments, “this one. That’s a real smile right there,” his tone was more self-satisfied than he wanted it to be, but he was losing what little confidence he had. “The proof is, after all, in the picture,” he puffed up slightly, elbowing his friend to knocks him slightly off balance and is playfully shoved in turn. Prompto goes serious for a moment, searching his friends face.

“I really think that if you keep working on it, nothing’s going to change,” Prompto gives as a warning, “Trust me, I’ve known her a long time. That’s her ‘I’ve come up with a new concept!’ Face. She’s just excited,” Prompto rubs the back of his head. His friend was in for a world of hurt if he thought anything was going to come out of this. But he hadn’t been able to talk him down from it yet, and this plan had failed miserably. He just wanted his friends to get out of this weird stage so they could all hang in peace.

 

—

 

You sat, frozen in your desk looking down at the 12 page monster you had labored over the past two nights. The TA was almost finished handing everyone’s papers back as your professor sipped on hot coffee at the front of the class, gauging everyone’s reaction.

The writing itself was unmarked as if it was ignored. You flipped through the pages almost half-a-dozen times just to be sure. All that was written on the back page was a giant circled D, with the comments of ‘ _See me,_ ’ written below. You folded it up as best you could, the pages splaying out uneven and imperfect like your shitty concept must have been. You shoved it into your messenger bag, the sound of a few of the pages ripping at the staple giving you pause but eventually you just you just shoved it in harder, treating it like the trash it was.

Out of what must have been self-hate you looked over at Noctis’s wimpy one and half page paper, seeing a nearly angelic B+ scrawled on his final page. ‘ _Nearly there, practical application seems very effective, but the theory is just slightly off. Try harder, keep studying, and you’ll get it in no time_ ,’ you could almost hear it in his smooth irritating accent.

Why did you sit so close to the front of the classroom? Every time you looked up, Dr. Scientia was looking at you over his coffee, and you flinched away, just wishing you could disappear.

Deep breath. Okay, instead of throwing yourself a self-loathing party you need to be productive. You open your laptop in preparation to begin taking notes, almost aching for the class to finally come to a real, full start. Maybe you should also delete your incredibly sub-standard writing as well. Ifrit Below, this was such a gut-punch to your ego. This class had been so easy so far— what kind of grading curve were you on? Was this punishment for claiming he’d fuck you with a ruler? Was this him, fucking you and your future? He didn’t come across like someone who would hold a vendetta— He clearly wasn’t as he’d woken Noctis up two times in the past four weeks and that ass hole got a B+. You let out a heavy sigh as the lecture begins.

There was no playful repartee or prematurely answered questions today, even when he left room for you in his comments. No, you’re being arrogant. He’s leaving room for all of the students. This was a class of 150 students, he barely knew you existed.

You fluctuate between fuming and sad, refusing to look up while working like a stenographer during his lecture. You _knew_ writing on paper had better recall but honestly— you’d just transcribe it later. Or not. Fuck this class.

No— _no,_ you needed this class, and you absolutely had to pass it. Fuck! You didn’t want to have an awkward after-hours talk with the Professor you had learned to respect. Ugh, did you respect him anymore? How dare he. I mean, did he even _read_ what you had written? You so strongly doubted it. You shifted in your seat, absentmindedly wondering if your messenger bag was causing back strain.

Why was this class two hours long? It never felt this long before. And could Noctis stop side-eyeing you every five minutes? Something between a sigh and a growl was released from you when he did it again. Your mouth was drawn in a tight, straight line as your Professor turned over his shoulder.

“Something you disagree with?” He sounded hopeful and you hated it. You quickly re-read the last two sentences you dutifully recorded and noticed something incredibly weird. You gave him the flattest look you possibly could.

“Molecular liquid expansion is a bull-shit science term, Professor,” you clenched your jaw. You should really be kissing his ass right now but you couldn’t help it. You wanted to embarrass him like he’d embarrassed you.

“Ah, and what do you think it means,” he turns around fully, a teasing smirk on his face. Holy shit, he said it on purpose. You closed your gaping mouth for just a second before breathing in and cocking an eyebrow.

“It’s a made up term for that moment when it seems like a small amount of liquid spills and it just changes into a significantly larger amount. Like, when you spill milk, but you need what feels like 40 paper towels to clean it up because it’s suddenly four gallons, or one of those oversized beach towels just to contain it from seeping under your fridge,” Oh he was laying on a full smile at you as a few of your classmates chuckled. That’s unfair. It was contagious and was absolutely boosting your mood. You wanted to keep sulking for just a little longer, not have your face dusted in soft pinks. You wanted to use that rage to argue a better grade.

“Exactly! I’d hoped you were aware of the fallacy,” he turns to the rest of the class, “So we have to ask ourselves, beyond simply saying magic, what causes the elemancy to expand at the alarming rate that it does?” You had to bite your tongue from just instantly replying as if it was a one-on-one conversation.

Carbon dioxide. Magic fed on carbon dioxide in the atmosphere and grew from it bonding to it in wild chains to expand and spread out like wildfire until the source material was completely used. It’s one of the reasons magic flasks were limited in size. Holy shit the answer is so easy, why doesn’t anyone talk.

“Is it Oxygen?” Dr. Scientia looked as defeated as you felt, a quick glance in your direction said he knew you knew and was _disappointed_ you didn’t answer. You guess you do exist.

He turned around to continue the lecture, seeming to realize he would have to go over the base theory of molecular bonding to really solidify the concept. You wanted to pretend to be bored but honestly the basics of organic chemistry were incredibly exciting and wonderful. It was proof that magic doesn’t always have to be wild. Before the class was over you were back to be enraptured again. Sure, it was slightly long winded, but he handled their incorrect answer delicately.

Standing up from your desk you rolled your shoulder just a little bit before putting the bag back on your shoulder. It was absolutely causing strain, damn it. Noctis lifted your bag for a moment and you almost yanked it back from him. Fuck him and his good grades. You began to make your way down out of the seats opposite him when Dr. Scentia gently touched your arm startling your thoughts.

Almost defensively your hand went up to the place he touched. It tingled, which was almost more upsetting than being stopped. It was an awkward second of eye contact before he cleared his throat and too gently said your name.

“My office hours are from 5 until 7, please sign up for an appointment so we can discuss… what you turned in,” his jaw seemed to clench a little bit when he alluded to your paper— Shiva’s frozen tits, he didn’t even call it a paper. And what was this horrible attempt at a smile he was giving you? He was looking at you like you were fragile, brows furrowed and a soft voice that suggested there was nothing to be worried about. You fiddled with the strap on your shoulder, defensively holding your chin up high. He would not make a coward out of you. You simply nodded, making your way to the sign up sheet. Six thirty it was— and you signed up for the seven o’clock slot too just to steal too much of his time.

 

—

 

“Please sign up for an appointment,” spilled out of your mouth in a high-pitched, nasally, and really bad fake accent over your phone to Prompto. He had called to see if you had any free time to grab some pizza, maybe decompress a little bit after working so hard the past two days. Of course, he wanted to hang at his place with their larger TV, more comfortable couch, and Noctis’s dad paying for everything, “I, unfortunately, have to be there in like 10 minutes,” your breath was slightly labored as you booked your way across campus, getting late out of your last class of the day just in time to watch the bus drive off, “and honestly, I think I’m ready for a battle of wills over this paper, Prom. I so did not deserve getting,” you lean in, covering the phone with your hand, covering your mouth just a little bit too so no one would see your shame, “a— a D, Prom. I got a D!” You stumbled in your walk for just a moment, faking being shot through the heart before furiously continuing to walk straight on.

“No way. No, that’s like, impossible dude!” You held the receiver away from your face smiling at it. You missed his justified rage on your behalf. “I can’t believe you were almost failed!” He pauses for a moment, and you hear shuffling and a little laugh from behind him. You stop flat in your tracts for a moment before shaking your head and just stomping forward.

“I have to go—“ was said in tandem with, “Noct said he got a B+” and you hung up on him. You frowned at your phone and were basically marching in your commander boots, scuffing them and shoving your phone in your pocket. You sighed as you immediately pulled it out again, rushing up the steps and looking down to check what room number you were supposed to meet your gatekeeper in.

You slammed into an immovable wall of muscle causing you to stumble backwards and nearly fall back down the steps. Maroon gloves and a long, white coat are all you see as you slip, time slowing down around you.

 

Neat.

 

Great.

 

You were going to die with your last mark on your life a statement of sub-par excellence, with just brain splatter going all over the steps. That seemed right.

 

The owner of the white coat reached out, and grabbed the front of your jacket before you were able to fall backwards. It caused a slight choking sensation as you righted yourself on the stairs. Face already flush from exercise, you looked into the eyes of a silver-haired gentleman. You felt your heart in your throat as your eyes bulged almost out of their sockets, mouth gently opening in shock. Your eyes darted between blue and violet as all words left you. He frowned. **_He_** was frowning at you _!_

“Are you quite alright?” Your please-Bahamut-let-this-be-a-hallucination asked behind a snarl. He shook his head slightly expecting a reply, and you have no idea what your face was doing in the moment. All you knew was that it felt hot and you couldn’t stop staring and maybe your mouth was stretching into a dumb goofy grin. You couldn’t be sure because you felt like you were vibrating. You should answer him with some words.

Think words. What are words. Word is a funny sounding word if you say it enough. Word. It can be one or two syllables depending on how you draw it out and how hard you hit the d.  No it can’t— what the fuck is wrong with you? _ANSWER HIM._

He gestures an upturned hand, almost exasperated at you. Raising his eyebrows and continuing to shake his head, he speaks again for you, “You know, you can avoid saying thank you if you’d simply look where you were going,” and then he brushes past you looking entirely over-irritated at the whole exchange. You finally release mouth sounds strung together. It doesn’t sound real coming out of you, with it so weakly stated in a soft almost musical lit.

 “Thank you,” annnnnd he’s gone. Your hands tighten on the strap on your shoulder shifting it upwards again as you reflect on a meeting you hope, shit, you’d even pray, that the whole reason you’re at this school forgets. Was that really just your introduction to Dr. Ravus Nox Fleuret? He’ll forget about it in absolutely no time at all. He has to. Because you’d prefer he didn’t have quick reflexes and maybe he could have been the last thing you saw before you fell and died on the stairs if he doesn’t. And there’s your watch vibrating and chiming, telling you you’re going to be late for the meeting but maybe if you run you’ll get there on time.

Fuck, you’re going to run just to get out of his headspace and your bag keeps hitting you on your thigh and it’s just sort of painful and awkward and has you looking as derpy and dumb as you feel and now you have to talk about your first nearly-failing grade and you’re absolutely spiraling _get it together woman!_

 

You take a deep at the door to your professors office. Righting yourself, you knock three times.

 

—

 

You don’t know what you expected, but the disarming sight in front of you when he called you in absolutely wasn’t it. He liked leather-bound books, modern furniture with chrome accents, plants, lots of plants, and the soft sounds of some kind of progressive jazz was playing in the background. Just quiet enough to not be a distraction. The fact was, the room smelled amazing like old literature, coffee, and ink. You hated that the reason for your first visit was because he wanted to talk about your paper, and not in a positive way.

He looked up from his desk smiling weakly and gesturing you in. He made quick work of slipping two glasses into his top drawer. One was only partially sipped from with an amber liquid sloshing about in it as he moved it too quickly off his desk.

 

Okay weird.

 

You weren’t going to let that throw you off as you took in another deep breath, holding in the fact that you were recently running to get to his office on time for your six thirty meeting. You could feel the lingering blush still on your face as his crooked smile looked over you, and he adjusted his glasses. You stood with confidence and matched his over-upright posture sitting down across from him, setting your bag on the ground next to you.

“I’m glad you were able to make it,” he leaned back in his chair slightly, a creaking sound met time with the music as if it was planned. He crossed his leg letting his shoe crest the top of his knee, and relaxed deeper into his chair. He rested his hand on his chin, an inquisitive look crossing his face, “You looked surprisingly shocked to see the mark you received today,” he comments as if waiting for you to say something.

Where the fuck was this conversation going. What does he even mean by that?

The breath was finally released from you in a scoff, “Honestly, I worked my ass off on that paper. I have no idea why you— _Failed me—_ but I am absolutely here to argue against it!” You fluster leaning over the side of the chair to get your paper out of your bag. Yanking it out you see the disrespectful way you had stowed it. The pages rip and fall away from one another. You clench your jaw and stare daggers at him, throwing the four different segments on his desk. Crossing your arms you exhale heavily at him. You would not be put at ease by that catchy fucking tune in the background or the, quite frankly shocked look on his face as he plants both feet back on the ground.

And now, now he has the audacity to remove his glasses and reveal his whole beautiful—no not beautiful, _mean—_  face and let out a soft laugh. Pinching the bridge of his nose he looks at you without any obstruction and you feel shame as he frowns and his shoulders slouch downwards. He collects the rumpled papers in his hands delicately, smoothing them out in his desk and making quick work of putting them in order. Re-stapling the corner, he finally speaks, “Please pull up your assignment requirements, and read it out loud to me,” he closes both his hands overtop of the mess that was your whole life for two days.

 

Okay, what kind of power tripping fantasy is this? You’re scouring your bag and pull it out, nice and tidy from the thin folder it was set in.

 

“Please write a two page maximum—“ everything in your entire body went cold. Your breath was gone, and you looked up at him, ready to continue to read the words but he had already held up his hand in a request for you to stop. You couldn’t close your mouth. It was frozen in horror. Your entire body wanted to fold in on itself at your incredibly armature mistake.

 “I honestly thought this was another way that you were challenging me,” his fingers tap at the paper gently, the sound causing your focus to shift there while your mouth waited for the plunge of a killer wasp to land and nest there, “as you seem to have a tendency to do,” he kept looking at your face as he rubbed his hand behind his neck. You finally slump into your chair.

Covering your face with your hands the words just come out of you, “I am a fool. I almost always read everything twice just to make sure I’ve completely digested it and I just barely skimmed the requirements once I became over-excited at the assignment,” you shook your head looking away from him, his desk. Your hands fell limp at your sides as you reflected on the glaring mistake, somewhere, off in those thousand yards. This was a horrible day of firsts.

His hand made a fist at his mouth as he watched you self-flagellate from the inside out. Almost unable to help it he reaches forward with your name falling from his lips to recapture your attention, “It’s an incredibly brilliant proposal,” he compliments, “It just absolutely missed every requirement laid out,” His face goes serious and skewes slightly, “And I didn’t fail you, I mean, how could I?” He began busying himself by flipping through the pages, and opened up to the fourth one, quoting you, “Reflecting upon the crystallization of the most optimized healing structures, I find my curiosity drawn to the known source of magic. We must consider its atomic structure, and the multitude of ways it may be able to bind with CN H2O– a manmade construct from the blending of starches and glutenous structures seasoned with a boiled down animal byproduct. I find myself confronted by inquiry. By every known current study, it should not be nearly as effective as it is, but the potency of it far exceeds any other—“ He sighs, looking at you. There’s something wistful in him and it almost breaks your heart, though you can’t pinpoint the reason why.  

“You go on for three pages and you’ve managed to link cup-of noodles to the potential for the crystal to bend and fracture light with the possibility of clairvoyance. If I didn’t have such a strong foundation specifically in this field, and have witnessed this phenomenon in actuality…” His fingertips touch his temple and he finally looks up at you, “I mean it’s brilliant. It’s just absolutely not what I asked for. Where did you come up with this?” He punctuates his last statement with three fast taps, the effort shared between his pointer and middle fingers. His face has been graced with the most crooked grin, furrowed eyebrows and confusion.

Oh yeah, baby. Your mojo is back and you’re feeling that swagger as you whip out three textbooks now over-marked with rainbow-colored tabs to indicate specific topics on their respective pages. Taking out your laptop you show him the other ten papers you had been reading and referenced in the two-page long index that you did not count against your total page numbers.

The conversation stretches on for way longer than it needs to. Laugher caused by delight filling in gaps with too much excitement building between the two of you. When you finally check the time you’ve so weirdly forgotten about, it’s getting close to midnight and you have to fight back the yawn that threatens to escape you, “Shit! I have some assignments to get started on still!” Stress builds across your face as you look at him and you feel slightly disappointed. This has been delightful, discussions like this are why you’d worked so hard to get here in the first place. The eye contact is held too long and for the 6th time that night, the soundtrack of your evening repeats its first song. His face transitions from disappointment to serious in a flash, almost over correcting himself.

The air feels thick for a moment, like you’re forgetting something and he just keeps looking at you expectantly. Or, whatever that face he’s giving you means.

You slam two open palms on his table startling him from whatever train of thought he was suddenly vacationing in, and he looks at you slightly shocked, “Give me an A instead,” you demand, still slightly high on the feeling of comradery in your discussion with him.

He seems to analyze you overlong before looking away, some soft color coming to his face. Ha, he’s embarrassed he forgot why you were in here.

“Re-write your paper following the proper guidelines and I’ll consider it. This is your only chance though,” wow he really wasn’t looking at you while his face deepened even more in color. This must be a really hefty exception for him to make. Yeah, you may be flashing a slightly wicked grin in this moment but shit, you’ve earned it.

“I’ll never let you down, Dr. Ignis Scientia,” you stated, his face turning towards you as you smiled and winked at him with a tiny salute added for extra flair. His brows furrowed as he closed the books in front of him and he assisted you in getting out of his office. Yeah no, he was basically rushing you out of it now. What the hell just happened?

“I very much enjoyed our discussion— but perhaps we should not over-extend the office hours next time,” he looked down working his jaw before looking at you again. His severe and contemplative expression softened slightly as he held the door for you.

“I am, quite legitimately, always down to talk about this,” yeah no you’re still hyped up on discussion when you touch his shoulder and it takes a moment but he all but flinches away from you. Shit. Why is he being such a weirdo, “Well, okay. Goodnight, I’ll see you in two days,” your smile is coming out stiff now as you turn on your heel and begin to walk way.

“I look forward to it,” the statement came across as honest if not quiet, but his face didn’t seem to match his tone. You barely see the poor excuses at a nod goodbye, and listen for the door to close. It takes him a good thirty seconds before it shuts quietly.

 

Whatever. Weirdness aside, you were going to get that fucking A. And as you continued to accumulate them over the semester, you were going to be another step closer to getting into the lab of your dreams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This wouldn’t even exist if I didn’t have the support of the incredible
> 
>  
> 
> [Daimhin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daimhin/)
> 
>  
> 
> <3 Thank you so much for your gentle encouragement and always letting me word-vomit all over you <3 <3
> 
> —
> 
> CN H2O is my bullshit cup of noodles abbreviation.
> 
> (Rainbow hands) the more you knowwww~!
> 
> But honestly this story is ridiculous and I am not a Scientist. Please forgive me and my bullshit hahaha :) I have no idea what I am doing!
> 
> But the next chapter will be from Ignis’s perspective and don’t worry.
> 
> She will eventually be nice to poor Noctis. Gotta have room for, well, an upsetting amount of character growth!


	2. A is for Absolutely not, how dare you!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Adds new tags and begins sweating profusely)
> 
> Enjoy a little Iggy perspective.

 Light was already long gone from his window. He only had a single lamp over his desk and it did nothing to repress the yawn that threatened him with exhaustion. He had a lot to get done still, too many finals littering his desk waiting for his attention. No one had signed up for office hours, but he wanted to be distracted. Rather, he knew who he wanted to be distracted by. Over these short four months having nearly daily one on one talks with her had been more delightful than he was willing to recognize. An unrequested smile formed on his face as he reflected on the game they had been playing. Every class, he threw something subtle and absurd into his lectures, and every time she found it, picking it apart. It was a strangely engaging technique as other students tried to slip in and play along too. The best part was, they couldn’t play unless they were well informed.

Her boyfriend— or friend he wasn’t quite sure, seemed to want invade in on their little side-debates more often now. He sighed, taking off his glasses and running his fingers through his hair. The concept of her having someone shouldn’t irritate him. She was currently under his tutelage and not to be touched, or looked at in any way other than someone who wants to better themselves. She hadn’t given him the impression she was interested in anything other than an engaging conversation, either. Well, not since their first meeting, at least. He rubs his hands down his face as he reflects the way she smiles when they verbally traverse into something really incredible. It’s so genuine, real, and excited-- as if she can barely contain it on her face. He tries to sigh out and release the warmth that builds in his chest, placing his face down in his arms. He was encroaching on unethical thoughts.

 

—

 

His head is lifted from his table as the tell-tale triplicate raps tap at his door. Taking just a moment to resettle himself and collect the papers off to the side of his desk he calls her in.

There’s… something strange about her ensemble.

She’s still wearing those ridiculous just above the ankle boots, but no cloth covers her legs. She’s wearing a jacket that just barely covers her posterior and when she releases her hold around the collar it sags and reveals… nothing but her collar bones and the smallest peak at her cleavage.

The reaction his body has at knowing she is bare under her jacket is immediate and he can’t control the stocotto breaths he says her name in.

“Ignis,” he closes his eyes at the music of his name being released from her lips. His fingers dig into his desk at this blatant come on. He’d need some form of anchor against how badly he wanted this. “I think it’s time we stop teasing each other,” her voice is rather more sultry than he anticipated. He opens his eyes again, that real and genuine smile is marking her face. It is directed right at him. He’s the source of her joy and he can’t look away as the she undoes the few buttons on her coat, letting it drop and fall around her ankles.

He feels overwhelmed as his body folds in on itself, fingers buckling against the desk to keep him upright. They slip slightly as the strain from his erection on the fabric of his pants is nearing painful levels of need. He looks her over, and he can already see the signature moisture between her thighs that screams she needs him as much as he _needs_ her _._

Almost stumbling he pushes himself away from his desk, passing by her and being gifted a look of confusion as he locks the door in front of him. He takes in a deep breath. Was he really going to do this— Risk his reputation just to enjoy some intimate moments with her?

He turns to look at her, his hands flat and bracing against the door to continue to take her in. The confusion on her face melts away as she approaches, eyes nearly black with want, and the smile she now saved _just for him_ returning to her face. Astrals, yes, he was _absolutely_ going to do this.

Like a sprung trap he relents all his repressed heat and fury into their kiss. All composure is lost as she is forcing his mouth open with hers. The taste of her is exquisite, and she sucks on his tongue just hard enough to force the moan he was holding back to crest at full volume. He can feel her causing him to break into two. The division of his place as her instructor, and the devotion to her spilling out into his desire to be her lover.

His hands are exploratory, wanting to touch every part of her. The thin fabric of the gloves he wore to prevent chalk from drying out his skin were violently yanked off between his teeth so he could feel the warmth of her body under his finger tips. There would be no break between his contact with her as he pushed them backwards towards his desk. The small laugh she gave as she stumbles into it was only fuel as he breaks to kiss down her neck. He adored hearing her delight at his lack of control. One hand grasps upwards, engulfing her breast with a firm hold as the other moves between her legs. The complimentary moan he releases as he watches her head roll backwards almost pleading his name— it was.

It was everything.

His hips rocked forward onto nothing, consumed by the want to feel the slickness of her on his fingers. He wanted to feel the heat of her around his cock. He refused to break the view of her pleasure as his mouth finds the peak of her opposite breast, her hands clawing up his arms and down his chest with electricity trailing close behind. Her fingers stumble over his belt buckle, yanking it too tight as he makes an effort to close the distance between them. He looks down only to watch her convulse around his furiously curling fingers, the entire base of his thumb stimulating her clitoris in fast circles with more pressure than was needed. He wanted his first time watching her come undone to be when he was deep inside of her. He tastes the elegant musk of her orgasm on his fingers as he sucks them clean.

“Are you absolutely certain you want this?” The words come out strained, rough, and deep. He had to make some nearly pathetic attempt at holding back as he pressed his chest onto hers in some strange attempt to feel her heart resonate in his chest. He needed to make sure she wanted it as much as he did.

Still reeling from his touch, she was flushed and beautiful, so incredibly all-consuming. Grabbing his face with her free hand she holds his forehead to hers, cutting through him into the core of who he is.

“Ignis, I have never wanted anything more in my life,” and once again, she meets his mouth. Her hand tangles into his hair to deepen the frenzied kiss. He finally releases her breast to shift to her backside, pulling her to the edge of his desk. She is nearly flush against him but her arm is in the way.

He all but yells out her name as she finally frees him from the constraints of his trousers, grabbing and stimulating him with fast jerking movements the cloth article tangles and falls around his feet. The precome caused her motions to be smooth, and he suppresses the moans by kissing her deeply, holding back from fucking her hand.

He feels the heat of her on his tip as she guides him to enter her. Everything starts to slow down as he chokes on the breath he cannot catch. He can barely hear her moan over the pulse in his ears as he takes efforts to enter her slowly. He his gulping for air as he feels her body adjust to him, a pulsating flutter almost milking him to completion. The knowledge that she wanted him so bad that she climaxed as he entered her broke his patience.

With one arm wrapped around her shoulders to keep her close to him, his other dug nails into her hip to keep her in time with him. The pace was relentless and the efforts forceful as he hears the continued skidding of his desk sliding backwards. He had no care to look away from her face as several books fell from the bookshelf his desk knocked into.

No matter how aggressively he penetrated her it never felt deep enough. He wanted to be a part of her, mixed in with more than seed and lust. His pace was faltering, the tempo going erratic as she drove her nails into his back, her legs shuddering around his waist and he watched her coming undone in time with—

 

—

 

He moaned onto the papers on his desk, his eyes opening half-lidded as he came breathing her name. The experience was so much longer and so much more intense than he ever had imagined it could be, causing his fists to crumple some random parchment on his desk.

Then, the shock arrived. His eyes now opened past comfort as he lifted his head away from his desk to look down at the drool he’d left on his students paper from his unintentional slumber.  He wiped it away streaking some of the ink. He couldn’t stop looking around the room, not wanting to confront the quickly cooling sensation that stained the front of his pants.

When it finally became a cold sensation he inspected his new stain. The overall amount of it coloring the black to translucent white as it continued to seep through his lap. He looked around for something to wipe himself off with and of course the tissues were on a shelf on the opposite side of the room. The awkward shuffle he made in those ten feet was the most agonizing walk of shame he had ever experienced in his life.

He wore a distinct frown on his face while he ruminated on how incredibly real the dream felt. Closing his eyes in shame he forced them open, shocked at himself for a second time. Stuck behind the lids of his eyes was her naked form crying out his name in unfathomable pleasure. It felt like he would never catch his breath.

He was, as she would so delicately put it, absolutely fucked.

 

—

 

After a few days of hands on lab work, and one too many failed experiments, he decided it was the mystery of not knowing her on a personal level that had him so inquisitive. He knew her mind, and he was even starting to understand how she strung abstract thoughts together to combine into bizarre but well-laid out hypothesis. The fact still stood, he didn’t really know her and he needed to do _something_ to suppress these thoughts of her during the transition between semesters.

So he had her file pulled for him to read over. Her emergency contact did not share her last name— someone named Argentum. That was odd but not unheard of. He continued to flip through her surprisingly small file.

Starting from middle school there were notes of, ‘Do not call her parents,’ written in big bold letters over her file, with more notices that she was denied advanced placement by her father. Notes from her previous instructors noting that she seemed incredibly bored, and startled easily.  That’s concerning. More notes about her foul mouth and fluctuating temper, unsurprising. Her original home address was— Oh. She grew up incredibly impoverished. There’s another note to forward letters to the Argentum household instead.

He closed the file, a sour feeling in his gut telling him this was deeply invasive. He’d have rather gained her trust enough for her to share these things with him. This was also not something he would want to accidentally let slip during a conversation that he already knew. On top of it all, he felt powerfully concerned and protective of her suddenly. Resting his chin on his hands he remembers the level of excitement she shared with him their first over-long meeting. Her thoughts were just scattered enough that it showed she didn’t get the opportunities to share them with others. Like she’d never been able to have a fulfilling discussion before. He sighed, wondering if that was the whole of it.

He wondered if that’s why she had kept signing up for meetings she didn’t need. Not that he was complaining. He had actually set timers so that the meetings wouldn’t go over an hour, cutting her off on several occasions. He’d cave in every once and a while, telling her just 10 more minutes while she tried to condense her large and verbose thoughts into simple sentences. The way she came in with a notebook that had an outline of the thoughts she wanted to go over was endlessly charming. She always looked so insulted at his phone’s timer when they didn’t even make it past the second topic.

“But there’s so much more I want to talk with you about,” she would plead. He’d fight a smile and sigh, giving in. For just ten more minutes.

By the final weeks of the semester he had given up on the timer altogether because he was enjoying their chats so much. They were slowly dissolving into the philosophy of magic and past that, sharing their philosophies in life.

He had to hold back a laugh, remembering at her particularly strong view against stoicism.

She crossed her arms in front of herself, almost creating a barrier, “It’s fucked up. I hate it. Why would someone choose to not feel their emotions? I get that sometimes emotions get in the way of logic but they can be rained in. They don’t have to be completely suppressed under a vineere of a vacant, stern expression,” she leaned forward, passion uprooting her from her seat, “Denial of emotions, be them good or bad— It just seems like you’re missing out on the point of life,” her hand broke from the hold it had on her arm gently arcing in front of her as she found more words to say, almost an invitation to prove her wrong.

The concept of allowing himself to feel everything that went through him warmed him. He wanted to agree with her, but he shook his head in argument against it. He continued shaking his head bringing him out of the memory and into the present. He was already fighting the tangled feelings and he refused to take off his cracking mask to face them.

Then he remembered his dream and ground his teeth together, shifting in his seat himself. He refused the thought, pressing it down in his gut. It was just some distorted view, the delight of being needed by someone presented by his subconscious. There wasn’t actually any lust there. He cared about her well-being far too much for it to be lust.

He flinched at his final thought.

Returning the folder to its rightful home, he decided it was time to take Gladio up on his suggestion of hitting the town.

 

—

 

He was applying aftershave to his face when the thought came to him. He allowed himself to get talked into attending an art show with Gladio and Ravus, but he just kept looking at himself thinking about change.

He had purchased the pomade a while back on a drive home, an almost unconscious decision as he watched her flirt with-- he blinked hard at himself. He was not going to think of her this evening. This was an outing for him to potentially try and meet someone else to occupy his thoughts. He rubbed the sticky substance back and forth in his hands into a better hold with warmth. Applying it to his flat, dry hair was unusual. The softness of it disappearing as he styled it vertically, up and away from his face. Smoothing out the back of his head to get the remaining residue off he rubbed it into the back of his neck, causing a soft upward flair at the bottom of it.  His lip made a thin line as he tried to remedy the look by running his fingers through it several times. Yes, okay, this was working. Was it a little too ridiculous? He looked down and swallowed hard just to push back the thought.

He was interested in trying new things, and he needed to break out of the cycle he’d so comfortably fallen into. He had wanted to present himself as a blank canvas, more professional but it wasn’t quite right.

He keeps staring at the planned outfit. It was absolutely to his personal tastes, and he hadn’t expressed those in quite a long time. Removing it from the hanger on the back of the door, he donned the dark violet shirt, slipping the leather-lapelled jacket over his shoulders. Picking off some invisible lint to get over his selfconiousness he looked at himself again. He relaxed a little, fussing a cufflink into place. For the first time in a while, he felt exactly like himself.

A phone call from Ravus, punctual as always, let him know his shared ride was here. Gladio had promised him an open bar and more festivities afterwards. He continued to wonder what he was getting himself into.

“Good evening,” pleasantries coming out of him as natural as an old habit, while Ravus gave him a flat, possibly startled look.

“I almost didn’t recognise you, Scientia,” The comment was as cold and disinterested as he’d come to recognize from the man. An observation in honesty, not an intentional slight. His eyes were already looking forward as he waited for the sound of Ignis buckling in. His friend was a master of Stoicism. A small smile crept up on his face as he heard the distant echo of words in his ears.

“I thought it may be a good idea to try something new. I am not quite as unchanging as you are,” Ignis comments looking out the window, the separation of the streetlights casting him in shadow and light at an even pace.

“I’ve noticed. You seem to have stopped practicing the task of masking yourself,” there’s a long pause. It’s a little too long. Ignis preemptively sighs over the judgement that is about to be cast his direction, “Does this have anything to do with the student you keep talking about? The one who kept signing up for after-hours,” his tone uncovers the pointed accusation.

Ignis had absolutely planned on avoiding this topic, as he was already feeling frayed from the repeated conversation. He rested his face on his hand careful to avoid his hair before leaning back in the car seat. Crossing his arms he quickly spoke up in his defense, “I assure you, the conversations are nothing untoward. She has made no advances. I’m inclined to believe she views me exclusively as a repository of knowledge,” Uncrossing his arms, he rests his chin on his palm as he continues to watch the street go by. “She comes in with a list of topics related to the class and is ready to discuss them into exhaustion. I’ll have nothing to instruct her in next semester,” he spoke into the window, his breath fogging up the appearing and fading reflections of his face. He saw the smile on his face forming without his request for it and steeled himself against it.

He was greeted with more silence. Closing his eyes he hears Ravus sigh as though to indicate the end of the discussion. He was happy to comply.

They pulled into a small, over-packed parking lot, driving under a string of small edison bulbs that decorated the entrance. Perhaps over-eager to get away from the awkward car ride, Ignis slips out, running his hands over his ensemble to return to presentable. Buttoning only the top button he looks to his friend again. They were a compliment of black, white, and violet accents walking in step to the gallery.

The sounds of a hired pianist, warmth, and laugher with loud conversation greeted them behind the large glass doors. The gallery was surprisingly packed. Large vinyl letters in a clean font spelled out “Dedication, In Love” as the thematic of the night. Unusual, but fitting for the students to focus on what they are passionate about. Near the door, Gladio greeted him with a smile and too firm of a shoulder pat, though he refused to let himself be moved in some stubborn contest of masculinity. The warm greeting was not extended to his associate. Before they even had a chance to look at the first pieces of art, the trio was forcefully guided to the free wine and horderves. Putting a cup in each of their hands, Gladio began the tour.

“Really, my first night out in who knows how long, and you take us to a student art show,” the smile was slightly contagious as he pointed at his friend with wine glass in hand.

“Oh wait, I know this one. You haven’t gone out since you started teaching, right?” His dark-haired friend teased.

“It’s absolutely true concerning this semester specifically,” cut his white haired companion.

Ignis worked his jaw as he began to look at the paintings in front of him choosing to ignore the slights. It was a mix of photography, photo-realism, and if he was really honest with himself, incredibly vaginal abstract paintings. Gladio had mentioned that the small collection was inspired by the painters significant other. Ravus thought he saw a halbert. Ignis really had to squint to see that but once he did, it switched every painting in his mind. Okay, not so vaginal then.

Gladio was making good on his promise. Ignis had begun to feel the warm tingle of inebriation fogging up his mind as his friends both ended up in distracted discussions. Making his way towards the photography area he was greeted by… A tree growing from a rock. He took another drink as he reflected how that could possibly be compared to love, but it seemed more like perseverance. His attention was caught by another thick accent talking to an over-excited brunette girl. Oh, Gladio’s little sister. He should say hello.

“Oh my god, it’s Noctis! You know he’s the heir to the Calem fortune-- the company that makes magic flasks. I had no idea we were attending the same college,” she sighs out looking at the photo displayed and printed a bit larger than life. She sighed clutching her hands over her heart, “he looks so handsome, like he doesn’t see her at all going for that book,” the titter of the giggle from him had him revisiting his decision to greet her.

“I don’ know,” the accent in a yellow hat spoke, seeming unable to keep still, “I reckon that he’s desperate for her attention. I mean, look at that strain in his neck so purdily captured by this lightin’,” she gestures over it. “I reckon you just don’ wanna see him lookin’ at someone else like that,” This definitely seemed like a more private conversation.

He looks to where her fingers are pointing and recognizes the face. Both in the familiarity of it, and the helpless want. Ah, to be young and in love. He looked to the other subject of the photo and it gave him pause. Great pause. He couldn’t look away at her face leaning down over her book, the beginnings of excitement forming on her face. Like it was her lifeline, surrounded by other stacks as a border wall that were impassible. The light given off by her laptop haloed her face and his breath was taken from him.

“Though, if I’m not mistakin’, I know her,” the woman voges in front of his view and takes him out of his fixation. It’s almost a relief as he takes another drink from his wine, “She came right up to me when I was havin’ a hard time, back when I was testin’ out all my options. I thought for sure she was gonna shush me, but she saw what I was workin’ on and made sure I learned it right,” She laughs a little, “Real glad she did too. I had to pass that class to get into engineerin’,” Iris seemed to be pouting at her, undoubtedly not wishing to hear the target of her affections affection as kind-spirited.

Almost on cue the blonde woman shifts out of the way, and he is concerned about how alcoholic this drink might be. He swears, he absolutely swears he hears her laughing through the photo. He looks around briefly and his heart flutters with gentle palpitations. He’s conscious of the way his lower lip separates from the upper, a gentle inhale of breath cooling them off as he maintains his composure.

That was not-- That was not the kind of outfit she ever wore to classes. This must have been a particularly special evening for her. A low neckline of red draped over the front of her, the dress held tight to her hips. A delicate gold necklace has some sort of pendant lost somewhere between the curves of her breasts. Her legs are uncovered, but she’s still wearing that leather-decorated jacket he assumes is her favorite. For the first time, she isn’t wearing those ridiculous boots-- and instead has chosen to go elegant and black in her heels. He takes another drink from his wine to hide his need to swallow, looking back to the photo he’s in front of which is just her again. No longer obstructed as the two girls go over and make their introductions.

Using his peripheral vision he notices her other company. Noctis, and some blond boy she has her arm around, leaning on him like he’s her only support. His face is marked with the same colored lipstick she was wearing.

“Hey Girl!” the woman comments pulling _his student_ in for a hug. She makes little effort to detach herself from the other blonde, but seems to concede when he pulls away in a flustered blush at the other woman.

“Hey Cindy,” she musically lits, “It’s good to see you! I saw your abstracts~ they look great!” an uncoordinated punch is made onto Cindy’s shoulder. Ignis sighs down at his wine. She seems to be wasted. He turns to look at a different photo to better eavesdrop on their conversation. Perhaps he had over-imbibed as well.

“Aw shucks, thanks Sugar. You make a right beautiful picture yerself,” she gestures over your shoulder. “Aren’t ya gonna introduce me to your friends?” Well played Cindy, Ignis thought to himself, glad his back was now turned as he looked at… Gods. Stuffed animals performing surgery. Sure why not. Nothing spells ‘Dedication, in love’ quite like pig hearts. He wasn’t hungry anyway.

“Oh yeah, sorry, this is Prompto Argentum! Photographer extraordinaire!” she makes an excuse to squeeze his shoulders again and an awkward laugh comes out of him as he waves a little, seemingly unable to look away from the plethora of poses Cindy is making. There’s a bit of a pause when she doesn’t introduce Noctis. Iris must be holding back her introduction.

“I’m Noct,” he offers, making up for her bad manners.

“What, can’t introduce you as her friend because yer her boyfriend or somethin’?” Cindy teases carefully diffusing the tension. Noctis makes no argument against it and Ignis frowns, pacing to the next photo on display.

“What? No! Absolutely not!” she protests. It sounds like she’s shoved Noctis as he laughs a little, hearing the shuffling of feet. He hazards a look at the group and his other student is absolutely smiling overlong at her denial. When he looks at her face, he knows that look and his whole body relaxes. That was honest discomfort.

“Then is this one you’ve marked your boyfriend?” Iris asks confused at her protest, “I’m Iris, by the way, nice to meet you Noct!”

As if she had picked up on Prompto’s blatant attraction to Cindy, and Iris’s overlong looks at Noctis, she grabs Promptos face between her fingers and squeezes his cheeks in, covertly removing her lipstick mark, “This one here, he may not be my boyfriend but he’d be the best boyfriend you could ask for,” and she releases him with a little shove towards Cindy. She catches him with a little bit of flirty mixed with pure nervous laughter coming out of the lot of them.

She makes eye contact with Ignis, almost sensing that he was staring and he wants to hide the smile that crosses his face, but she’s giving one back to him and abandoning her friends in a quick, hip-swinging pace. Noctis makes a move to stop her but Prompto cuts him off with a subtle head shake. “That guys like, exactly her type. Let her have fun,” he stage whispers too loudly. Ignis’s chest fills up a little more at her friends admission and he has to release it slowly while she waves behind her sauntering up to him. This doesn’t seem to be too unusual to them as they all try to make casual conversation with one another.

Her face seems to change from predator to excited, pausing as she gets close to him. She hadn’t recognized him.

“Wait, what the hell is going on here,” she gestures putting her hand on his arm dragging it lightly down causing him to gently chuckle. Her touch was light and it burned through his whole body. This was incredibly bad. “I mean, _Professor, wow!”_ she affected the word with a little too much heat and breath and he had to shift uncomfortably away from her. Mostly because he wanted to lean into it.

“It’s good to see you too. It’s been a while,” there would be no containing this smile. It wasn’t wrong to be happy to see her. It may have been a just little improper to find so much enjoyment at how she was looking at him. She didn’t but need to know.

She took a hard drink of her own wine as if judging what she was going to say next. “I feel like I’m meeting you for the first time. You like, you went from ‘ _I’ll get your daughter home by nine, sir,’_ to like a total, ‘ _your daughter also calls me Daddy,’_ ” her attempt at his accent, the way she dropped and slowed her voice playfully as she said ‘daddy,’ had him raising his eyebrows above his glasses. Heat was really rising to his face and coherent discussion left him. She’d never come onto him this aggressively, or at all. Ever. She begins laughing overlong slipping her hand through his arm at his reaction. Should he just, let this happen? He looks to her friends and the one called Prompto gives him a thumbs up while Noctis looks mortified. What is going on here? She guides him back to the photo of her and releases him, thank goodness. He busies himself, fiddling with his cufflinks for a moment, to recompose himself.

“Prompto did so good. It looks like a Cara--Caravaggio. All that drama in one picture,” she peeks at him at him through her lashes and raises her eyebrows up at him in a quick flash to punctuate her words. Though, she seemed to be slurring just a little too much. He had the idle thought of wondering if this was just inexperience, or if she was purposefully drinking too much.

“How many glasses of that have you had this evening, young lady?” The smile on his face wasn’t going away, so he snuffs it to a smirk as he looks down at her from the corners of his eye. She’s looking at the photo and clenching her jaw as if she was taken away to somewhere else.

A weird, lingering sadness is on her face before it shifts to a fake, playful confusion looking at him, “I had like two. And then, two more. And I think this is my second one after that last one,” she laughs a little, pulling it back up to her lips as he looks down at her a little shocked, gently taking it away from her. With an enormous show of trust in him, she relents. He settles the half-gone cup into his own empty one.

“So are you like, here to find the one? Just looking across the gallery and hoping to see her,” She seems more wistful than usual, with something less than a smile on her face, “I know that’s why Prom’s here. It feels like that’s the only reason he goes out anymore,” she goes to put a drink to her lips before she rolls her eyes and lets her hand drop to her side.

“Ah, everything is stringing together now,” he gives her back a ‘there-there’ double tap. In reality he was just guessing but, the thought makes the alcohol in his own stomach upset. She sighs and leans on his arm. He was now trapped in the odd position of hoverhanding or putting his arm affectionately around his student. Fantastic. Perhaps she would react better with a distraction. He gestures at the photo with his wine-cup filled hand. “I see that you spent some time as the subject of one of the more compelling pieces here,” he’s chosen to hover awkwardly. He should really just excuse himself.

She scoffs slightly and leans in harder, choosing him as her brace as she crosses one foot behind the other, “That was the exact moment I realized the Crystal might be able to show different timelines, hypothetically of course. I was distracted by the photoshoot, so I didn’t read the page a second time and just wanted to go _write_ ,” she sighs and pulls herself off of his shoulder, “You smell too nice it’s obnoxious,” and now she’s frowning.

This was some of the most bizarre whiplash he’d experienced. Should he apologize for that? Perhaps he should just… Continue listening. The sigh that comes out of her is a soft shudder and he looks at her face now witnessing the shine of moisture in her eyes. He fights back the reflex to put his arm around her.

“Do you ever just… Wonder if you’re just never going to find love? Or say you do, but you’re just never going to be loved in return. Just, isolated in the loneliness of a tower of books and theory you read to distract yourself from reality. But it’s okay because they will always be there to distract you. I think I will be okay with that, just, diving head first into work and never coming out,” he can’t break away his stare at her. His hand flexing in and out as he decides that actions will speak better than words. He puts his arm across her shoulder and she just melts into his side sighing out heavily. She begins to hiccup as he rubs his hand up and down.

“The incredible thing about,” he shouldn’t be saying this to her, “love is that it can come forward at unexpected times,” Shut up, Ignis. “Unexpected places. Even if it is unrequited,” Okay keep going Romeo, “I believe the expression is better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all,” was any of that even remotely ethical to say? He shouldn’t have drank at all, he’s absolutely losing his footing.

She’s looking up at him while he looks down at her. He can’t quite catch his breath as he thinks about how he could just lean down a little bit more. His arm should be off of her shoulder by now. She gives him the deepest frown he’s ever seen. His confusion mirrors her expression at half intensity, brows knitting together. Then her mouth begins to contort and he can’t look away. She’s laughing at him.

“You’re such a dorky romantic!” She half slid out of his grasp, but then returns to leaning on him. There was his quite a valid reason to let her go, but instead he looks down at his cups and finishes it off.

Someone clears their throat behind them, “I believe the subject of his photograph is the one I told you about, Ignis. Perhaps she is mute,” there stood Ravus, two plastic wine cups in hand, and with the most piercing gaze he has ever given Ignis. Like a child caught doing something wrong, he nearly repels away from _his student. Good gods_ **_she’s his student_ ** _._ She stumbled slightly in his direction and turns slowly looking at Ravus. She lets out another hiccup as his gaze goes to her, back to the photo, to her face, then laser focusing on Ignis with a frown. One of the cups crinkling in his grasp.

He, he was going to smooth this out right now. “No, she’s really quite the conversationalist, I promise,” Don’t touch your hair Ignis. He’s about to make introductions, before he’s completely thrown off.

“Yes I’m sure she is. That must be why her lipstick is on your mouth,” Ravus takes Ignis’s panic at face value. Absolutely shocked, Ignis wipes at his mouth with his palm and the deep red comes away.

“It’s from her cup, I swear it,” he looks and sees that he must have removed almost every trace of it onto his own mouth while both gentleman inspect the double stacked glasses. One from a distance, and one up close.

“Are you going to say _anything_ yourself?” Ravus looks at her now and she’s just completely flushed over her whole face, down her neck. It’s an entirely new look for her, and he feels confused at the entire situation. The stoicism is broken as he raises his eyebrows with impatience.

She stands there for a moment, her mouth open slightly agape. She’s suddenly covering herself up slightly with her jacket and fussing with her overall appearance. She’s absolutely trying to shape up in front of Ravus. Must she continue to behave like everything they were doing was so wrong?

A heaving sigh comes out of Ravus as he shoves the extra wine glass into Ignis hand. He begins to turn away when she finally finds her words. “How does the light know where to go?”

Who is this woman?! What kind of braindead monster asking completely asinine questions has replaced her?

Ravus stops in his retreat. The question blatantly giving him pause. He’s searching her face as if trying to figure out if she was being sincere in her inquiry or not, “That is, indeed the question, isn’t it?” he was absolutely studying her now.

She lets out a litany of giggles hidden behind a covered hand. Ravus sighs rolling his eyes and shaking his head with more of a, if directly translated, ‘what the fuck is wrong with you,’ glair towards Ignis.

Suddenly, two fingerless gloved hands appear on her shoulders. She’s still giggling at Ravus’s acknowledgement of her existence as her friend, who indeed is a very good friend, is pulling her away.

“Okay dude, I think it’s time to head home now, say goodbye to your _Professor,_ ” the last word is hissed out through teeth and a little too high-pitched. She hasn’t stopped looking at Ravus. Ignis feels as though he’s gone completely invisible.

“I love you,” comes out weak and sheepish with a ever so slightly raised hand in goodbye. Prompto covers her mouth and is now, quite literally, dragging her away by her jacket while Noctis just raises both his eyebrows and continues to try to worm away from Iris.

“I have to go my friend needs some serious help-- _right now_. Your girlfriends vagina looks great as canvas paintings,” Noctis comments as he manages to finally liberate himself. He sneaks away to grab her other arm, dragging what looks to be a completely love sick girl away from one mortified, and one very confused man.

“Aw, thanks Prince!” Cindy calls out behind him waving goodbye as if this was just a regular reception at an art gallery.

“Honestly I don’t know what possessed her--” Ignis is cut off from his defense of her behavior.

“Enough! We will discuss this in private at another point,” He’s throwing his full wine glass into the trash with just enough momentum that it overspills and paints the wall.

After a few moments with no composure collecting happening, Gladio walks over and throws his arm around Ignis’s shoulder, “Well. New Iggy likes to cause a scene. I like it. And, now that the guy with the stick up his ass is gone, we can have some real fun!” He cheers Ignis’s wine cup and downs his own in a few quick gulps. “Come on, chug that bad boy and we can get out of here. I’ve said hello enough to my crew. It’s time to go after something actually attainable,” he gives a little squeeze as Ignis looks into the burgundy liquid.

What on Eos just happened? Is his name actually Lutum? Gladio guides the cup up this face causing a glare, but he gives in and matches Gladio in style. Wine stained smile of his friend are the last truly lucid moment of his evening.  
  
  


—

 

The chime of the coffee shop a few days later is almost welcome. He’d decided to maintain his changed appearance, or rather his more sincere one, into his everyday life. A gentle hum escaped him as he picked up the morning newspaper at the door, walking up to the register with a small nod. He orders a double espresso coffee for a pick me up before he has to head back to his lab and actually enjoy some more prosperous research.

It was a busy morning in the cafe with nearly every table full. Normally, the prospect of sitting with a stranger made him retreat back to his lab with a to-go cup. Though it seemed life was laughing at him. Like a bad joke, there was an empty seat next to a fine figured woman who he immediately recognized. She looked up making eye contact with him before a deep red covered her face. Her eyes seemed incapable of returning to a relaxed state as she looked back down at her laptop.

Best to fix this situation lest they have a strained relationship next semester. He brought the coffee over to her table. Tapping on surface he gave her a forgiving smile, “Is this seat taken?”

She awkwardly moves her bag off the seat and onto the floor without looking up, the gentle blush deepening. He look at her expectantly to acknowledge him.

“Listen-” and “I’m so embarrassed,” are said in tandem with one another. This over-talking has her finally looking up at him. She opens her mouth to speak again, closes it, runs her fingers through her hair while looking up and finally closes her laptop to shift her whole posture towards him.

“I need you to listen to me first,” she’s holding up her hand flat outwards towards him in an open shield. He nods a bit at this unexpected shift, patiently wrapping one hand around his coffee cup while the other clutched the saucer.

“So. I worked my ass off to attend this school for an incredibly specific reason. I’m aware that it’s a little pie-in-the-sky to hope it would be me, but I really think I can do it, and I’m worthy of it too,” she went after her own coffee and took in what must have been too large of a sip as she squinted her eyes taking in a quick breath, “Hot!” In seconds he was charmed all over again. “Okay, so I’m stalling now. It’s just-- every impression I’ve made on him have failed so explicitly,” he leaned back taking the cup and saucer with him. The curiosity answered as she flailed, “I have always wanted to study under Dr. Nox Fleuret. Ever since I read my first paper at twelve,” her hands have made their way into her hair tugging at the roots and making her look as particularly insane as she must feel sharing this personal admission. Ignis can’t help but be slightly bemused.

“You know he very seldom takes on female students, right?” she removes her hands from her hair to clap them together over her laptop.

“I know he doesn’t. But you could change that,” she’s biting her lower lip now, the full admission coming out. His shoulders slouch and he sets down his cup a little over-hard feeling slightly used. It was true that Ravus was his mentor and friend. There was a solid sense of trust between them. Ignis’s word carried weight that few others did. The fact that she was aware of that though, was strange. He’d only been instructing there for a year. Just what did she know?

Her hands come to his chest and shoulder in placation and he hates it because it works. He chooses to blame the warmth spreading in him at her touch on his coffee. It takes only a moment, but collects himself again sighing and looking to her. “Explain yourself.” 

She lets out a relieved smile opening her face with a subtle raise of her eyebrows. Patting his chest and shoulder twice with excited hands she removes them intertwines them around one another. They worry over one another while she collects all of her thoughts.

“Now, before I start I need you to know I do not expect to just be given this opportunity. You know me, I’d work endlessly for it,” he gives her a begrudging nod. He supposed he really was coming to know her quite well. She seems to need to look away from him. This was uncommon for her, as she usually looked at him with a quiet request for confirmation in her concepts. Perhaps this was going to be a little heavy.

“I didn’t grow up with a lot. In fact, I grew up with just about as little as you can survive on which made me cling to the things I thought could get me out of my situation. Knowledge as power was my lifeline, and I took advantage of anything I could get my hands on. Over too much time spent at the public library, well, I made friends with a family that supported my desire to learn.”

“I was exposed to my first scientific paper at,” she laughed a little worrying over her repetition. Ignis put his hand over both of hers to let her know he was still listening, that she was worth being heard. She looked to him with worry across her expression, the blatant strain of exposing herself like this was a challenge. He nodded, encouraging her to continue and she gave a grateful smile in return, “well you know, twelve, and I had my first moment of awe,” she shifted more towards him, her hands taking his onto her knees as she leaned forward impassioned and looking for something to hold onto. Some reins to drive her, “That question I asked him-- It was from a study he was second author on. The study of light being a wave  _ and _ a particle, the double-slit experiment taken to an extreme,” she squeezed his hand searching his face to for understanding, “It ended with this open-ended concept of light seeming to predict where it was meant to arrive at, before it should have been able to get to it. And honestly, that question-- That awe of things being measurable but still out of our grasp of understanding,” she’s pulling him more towards her now or perhaps he’s leaning in, magnetized by her excitement, 

“I need to know. I  _ need  _ to be a part of that journey and advancement. I know he’s been searching for it this entire time, each paper he’s released-- it’s woven through them like a trail of breadcrumbs begging to be eaten and followed. And I am absolutely convinced,” she releases one of her hands from his to clutch at her chest and squeezing her remaining hand on his with as much fervor. His eyes follow it for a moment before returning to her face perplexed, “into the core of my being that the simple question and all the of the scope that surrounds it, lies the answer to the construction and formation of magic. It comes back to the source, how magic reacts spilling out of the crystal,” her hand is on his arm now clutching at his jacket, her knees bumping into his as they both lean too far forward, “and I firmly believe we could potentially transition that into its own stupidly simple double slit experiment,” She laughs at the concept. Sighing waiting for some kind of answer, she fidgets slightly looking at how she was holding onto him. Too quickly, she is releasing her grasp and shifting her feet back to flat under the table. Her right foot is twitching up and down from the adrenaline of the confession and she just looks at him again, “I can only pursue this with the proper connections. The right funding, and the right, well, person at my side. And from everything I’ve read, I’m equally convinced Dr. Nox Fleuret is just that,” it seemed that she was finally finished, going in for another sip of her coffee.

He replies after a moment of collecting himself and his thoughts.“I will do everything I am capable of to make sure you have your needs met,” He sighs with a smile finally looking away from her as she looks up at him, a smile too bright for him to fully bask in. She throws her arms around his shoulders pulling him into a tight hug causing his glasses to go asque as he is slightly pulled off from his seated position.

“Thank you so much! I cannot put into words how much this means to me!” There he was, flying into the sun as he looked into her smile, at the joy he personally caused her. His chest actually hurt at how happy it made him in return. Was this really so wrong to feel?

“I believe your actions just how have shown me your gratefulness quite a bit,” he comments, finally righting the glasses on his face. And again they slipped. Slightly bent from the embrace it seemed, “I didn’t expect our conversation to go this direction. I appreciate you being so honest with me,” he removed them completely, now officially more of an obstruction than helpful. She was still staring at him, a unique glow dusting the apples of her cheeks. He needed to look away, but it had started to become more difficult with each meeting.

“Neither did I,” she lets out a free laugh, seeming suddenly shy, “I admit I dumped a lot of information on you, Professor Scientia. I just, I needed you to know. Thank you, for being my friend in this,” it’s a soft smile that’s on her face now.

“If we’re going to be allies in crafting that pie-in-the-sky dream, why not call me Ignis from now on,” shifting in his seat he grasps for his wallet. He pulls out a slip of paper displaying his personal contact information, “Should you ever need to reach me, if you want to discuss these ideas in more detail, or if you just need to talk, I’ll be a few taps away,” the soft smile he was wearing seemed permanent when she was around. She accepted it gleefully and he watched her quickly adding his number into her phone. Sending a message with her full name she tacked on extra text. Biting her lip, she looks back at him expectantly. He denies the feeling that hit his stomach— that he would like to be the teeth around that lower lip.

Her smart watch vibrates on her wrist and she reacts to it slipping her laptop in her bag with deftness. Apparently she’s only willing to listen to the timelines she’s set up for herself, “I have to get going— But I’m so glad we had a chance to meet before the semester,” she stands opening her arms wide to him. Touching his nose slightly he stands and hugs her in return. It’s a tighter and more full hug than the awkward overzealous one she’d given him initially. He can smell the subtle lily scent above the strong odor of the cafe. It goes on for perhaps a moment too long and she releases from him first. He acknowledges the color he can only assume he shares on his face.

She hesitates in her leaving for a moment engaging in her nervous habit of playing with her messenger bag strap. He finds himself wanting to take her hand in his again to still the nervous energy. She did not have to fret around him.

“Did I really say I love you to him? Or was that like, a drunken fever dream?” 

“Ah-Well. Yes, you did indeed,” his blood runs slightly cold remembering not only the words, but his complete invisibility. Right, she wasn’t thinking of him. Pinching the bridge of his nose he sighs a little.

“Well. Great.  **Neat.** Wow,” she shifted on the balls of her feet, “Fuck!” the word drawn out as more of a defensive hiss, “We uh. Well. I’ve really made this a task for us— but I’m holding you to your word, Ignis,” Hearing her say his name without the formality behind it puts him strangely at ease as he laughs behind his hand at her embarrassment.

“I am a man of my word,” the tone is a little deeper and more soothing than he meant it to be, but it has the desired effect as she lights up. A little shrug comes to her unencumbered shoulder as she finishes her cup.

With a slight bounce in her step she leaves Ignis behind in the cafe wanting just 10 more minutes.

He opens his phone to see what the extra text was.

**_Unknown Number_ ** _ : “If passion drives you, let reason hold the reins” Happy to have you guiding me to my reason, Ignis. I will delight in proving to you every day why I deserve to work with Dr. Nox Fleuret. _

He shouldn’t be feeling that spike of jealousy. Wouldn’t working with him be just as gratifying?

 

—

 

Three days before the next semester started, all of the faculty were called to attend an incredibly dull, obligatory seminar. It was titled as ‘Ethics of Instruction’ but seeing as Ravus was leading it, chances are it was more about sexual harassment. He was never sure if it was a requirement, or a voluntary action taken by his mentor.

As the lecture goes on, some details for why it is happening are revealed. Apparently a tenured instructor had gotten suspended recently for coming onto a few different students. Once it hit the papers, or rather,  _ if _ it hit the papers, they would be sure to retire from the pressure of it. Ravus is scanning the crowd and his eyes settle as they land on his protege. 

“I am aware that it is not, by law, illegal to pursue an intimate relationship with a student. But remember, you are in a place of power over them, especially if they are directly involved in your classes. Even if you think they may be consenting, it is not a guarantee of their feelings,” he continues to pan the crowd, but the admission has Ignis rolling his pen back and forth between his fingers. He reflects on her pulling away from him at the art opening, and wonders if he had unconsciously held her there. He remembers the hug that lasted too long before she broke it. But—That couldn’t possibly be what was happening.

Could it?

Heterochromic eyes now settling on the instructor of the arts and Ignis’s other closest colleague, Professor Amicitia, “These students trust us. They believe in us. We are currently the top ranking institution in the country, but it will slide into failure if another one of these situations arises-- no matter how prestigious our ranking and facilities,” He had always been worried about Gladio’s unintentional flirtatiousness. That he was a bad influence on Ignis. He set his mouth into a straight line. His brows knit slightly in worry as he can’t stop thinking of the issue of consent. His shoulders kept a stiff, collected posture, his only tell of internal contemplation was the pen in hand.

The lecture, spanning an hour and a half, comes to a close. This discussion had never gotten to him before. The end of it was usually almost a relief, but his ebony has gone sour in his stomach. He’s frozen in his seat and he feels young again. He had been fifteen in his college years, and sitting at this desk has placed him back into the mindset of a scolded child.

“Scientia,” the tone is flat, its normal timbre but he almost wilts. Almost. He has done nothing to feel so guilty about, “I would like to speak with you in my office,” Gladio gives him a curious side glance, but seems to let it go.

“Of course,” he replies with perhaps a bit too much confidence. As if this wasn’t going to be a discussion they’ve already had several times over. Picking up his empty notepad he makes perfectly even and unshaken steps towards Ravus.

 

—

 

Despite the fact that they were the same size, the sterile nature of Ravus’s office always affected him. After the accusations against his mentors character were laid out, he had revisited everything. There was only clean glass shelving and stark white furniture. It was absent of all personality and personal effects. He had nothing in his office for anyone to get close to, to use against him. He holds back a sigh, feeling pity for his friend. He had been so deeply injured.

The conversation starts with little preamble as he sits behind his desk folding his hands into one another. He barely waits for Ignis to settle in, and he knew that even that amount of patience was out of courtesy.

“We are going to discuss what happened the other night,” he is looking towards Ignis with an almost unblinking stare. Refusing to break to it, Ignis returns the challenge. “When I asked you about her in the car, you made copious mention of her not coming onto you. I did not want to get into another debate before we needed to be convivial, so I let it go,” Ignis could feel the ‘however’ filling the air with its suffocating presence. It was a short pause in thought, but it was not for Ravus’s sake. It was for his own, “After seeing the comfort you two share together, I have to ask. What are your feelings towards her?” Ignis gave a few short blinks at the question. He made a quick reflection on the fact that no, he had never mentioned his personal feelings. It made him feel slightly indignant.

“Apologies, Ravus, but you are projecting your past onto my present. If you would take the time to hear her convictions, you would see that she indeed requires the mental nurturing to grow. I feel this is her first experience engaging in thoughtful repartee and it should not be unrewarded,” He was getting slightly heated, feeling exposed. “I swear to you that the mark left on my face was simply because I had taken her wineglass from her. I admit that I drank from it while forgetting myself, but that has nothing to do with any illicit feelings towards her,” his hands made fists on his thighs as he maintained his composure.

Ravus slams his open palm on his desk startling the anger from Ignis. As if transferred, he points an accusatory finger towards his protege before taking in a deep breath and relacing his fingers.

“Ignis. If she is worth even a quarter of the praise you give her, you need to set yourself right,” He did not believe a word from Ignis’s mouth. Why would he? She was not only drunk past sense, her apparent second introduction to him was a train-wreck. Even if she had maintained herself before flustering, she said the three words Ravus dreaded out of any students mouth. He needed to fix this-- He had given his word.

“That question she asked, ‘How does the light know where go?’ It was not some fleeting and impaired rhetorical verbiage. It was intentional to grasp at the attention you shun from her,” Revealing more of himself than he ever did, Ravus stood up to pace. As if he too wanted to escape the discussion. Coming out from behind his desk he crosses his arms, looking down his nose at Scientia.

“I would almost have believed it as well if it had not been for her blathering of giggles the moment I spoke to her. I find it more likely that she was fed the line from,” he winced, forcing the name from his mouth like it burned him, “Miss Highwind’s significant other. The blonde woman you were eve’s dropping on,” He continued his forced neutral expression, an assumption that his protege had been caught red handed when Ignis looked at him shocked.

“Were you,” he looks him up and down, standing from his seat in the same moment. He felt like all of his privacy had been invaded, “You were watching me,” he let the anger fuel him instead of retreating in on himself in guilt. The hands at his sides make shaking fists.

The sigh Ravus gives him is one of understanding. A firm hand grabs his shoulder as if to wake him up from how senseless he’s become, “I understand your conundrum. I saw too much of myself in you when she sauntered up to you. In that moment, I admit contemplated a way to divert you. Making haste to grab a second wine glass, the line was longer than I expected. When I returned you two were melding into one another,” he releases the shoulder as Ignis deflates slightly. Ravus had never made any effort to hide anything from him. He was always there to lay out ugly and naked truth, grounding him into reality. He sits back down into his chair a gloved hand coming up to gently touch his face in denial.

“She is young, excitable, and undoubtedly beautiful. She gives you her complete attention and hangs on your every word, just like everything else goes numb around you when you are with her. I know how it makes you feel worth something, but you cannot let that  _ ruin you _ ,” he grit his teeth at the last phrase. When Ignis does not immediately retort, he continues his torrent.

“Are you aware of the difference between your ages? She is freshly twenty and you are five years her senior. It may not seem like a large amount, but I need you to reflect on what you thought you knew during that time in your inexperienced life. The dramatic amount of personal growth she has yet to experience makes you twice as fascinating and trustworthy. She does not deserve that betrayal, and neither do you,” he finally ended his reprisal as Ignis looked up from what had to be an interesting point on the floor.

“Are you quite done?” It’s a harsh tone but he’s lost his patience after being talked down to. Ravus works his jaw as he acknowledges he’s crossed a boundary, but there is no regret there. He was willing to enter this enemy territory in order to save his friend before he was hurt, “She has worked her way here from nothing specifically to learn from you!” He was already standing, pacing himself to face away from his mentor, throwing his arms up in surrender. Ravus takes a quick breath, concerned Ignis is already lost.

“Somehow she has become aware that I am a deciding factor regarding who you will admit to join your precious laboratory,” Ignis had to bite his tongue before continuing, the clear jealousy an admission of guilt.

Ravus pauses in consideration, quickly piecing together how she would be able to come to that conclusion. Ignis’s name as a first author on several papers with him as the PI. Getting a job at the school at far too young an age, obviously with his assistance-- the classes he teaches threading together as prerequisites for the single class Ravus himself instructed. It was a bold leap in logic for her to assume but, that leap was not incorrect.

If his previous student didn’t seem so blinded by her, he’d have to consider something far more drastic. She might actually be something to contend with.

Ignis was now crossing his arms glaring at him through what looked to be new silver rimmed glasses. Opening his mouth to speak before he is cut off, “We need to come to a point of agreement. Until you have undeniable proof that she is everything you claim she is, I don’t want to hear about it. Treat this like an experiment, Scientia. I need replicates, and I need proof that you can maintain a professional distance. I won’t be bringing this up again,” he sits at his desk, pulling up spectrometry data for analyzation on his computer. The symbol that their current discussion was over.

Clearing his mind for a few blinks, Ignis acknowledged the ending for what it was, not what it seemed like. He knew from years of working with him that this was not him being cut off. This was the strong desire to end their argument and return to normalcy.

The knife sharp pain in his gut softened as Ravus began asking him his hypothesis’ on the data he’d collected. A sense of professionalism retaking the atmosphere.

 

—

 

He was sat down across the table from her over a gentle candle lit dinner. It was a little extravagant as far as a first date goes but, he felt determined to push his romantic attention elsewhere. What better place to start than the woman he had woken up next to the morning after the art show.

He feels a little sick at the fact that she shared so many physical mannerisms as his student. Perhaps it would have been alright if she had even the smallest similarity of spark.

“What are your thoughts on particle physics?” he asks, gauging her reaction. She gives him wary eyes as she pauses the procession of a salad-laced fork up to her mouth.

“I--What?” she rests it on her napkin instead of on her plate and he furrows his brow, “Dude, I teach zumba. I honestly have no feelings about it,” she replies, laughing at a joke he didn’t make. Another moment of awkward silence as he flakes the fish on his plate. She picks up her fork with no regard to table manners and takes the bite. Perhaps another approach. She seemed quick to laugh.

“I seem to be floundering in my conversation. Would you care to cast a line?” She groans, shifting her food from one part of her mouth to the other on display for him to watch. Not a fan of puns, then. Before she’s quite finished chewing she takes him up on his offer for discussion.

“Did you see that new super macho action movie? The one with, uh, that blonde guy, what’s his name,” she snaps her fingers a little bit trying to find her words, “Whatever, it’s probably Chris, they are in everything. Like, the plot is great, you’d probably like it,” she picks up her water to swallow whatever thoughts and remaining food were ready to bubble out of her mouth next.

“I am not a particular fan of the ‘super-macho-action’ genre,” how on earth had she gotten into his bed in the first place? That was the question he really wanted to ask while more flat and dead silence lingered in the air.

She raises her eyebrows at him, tapping the table with her fingernails and sighs. “So like, look. Maybe we should just skip this talking part and jump to where we do it in the back of your car or something,” she bluntly suggests. He felt ready to die in his seat.

“Apologies to you but… I would really rather not,” he lets out with a tense breath, looking up from his food to see her scowling face.

“Gods, you like don’t put out at all. You tucked in my feet and kissed my forehead before conking out yourself. I thought this was an extravagant booty-call or something, like you needed to buy me dinner before you could  _ do me _ ,” there was something so repulsive about her in that moment that all he could feel was relief at her statement.

“Oh thank Ramuh,” comments dropping his fork and looking around for the waiter signalling that he would like the check brought to him right away.

“Excuse me? Psh, you know what? I don’t need this. I’ve got like, fifteen matches on Ember that I could be seeing right now,” she shifts her seat back, pulling up the purse and walking away. His eyes follow her and he realizes why she had even a small chance of it.

Taking an overlong drink of water the waiter lets him know that the dinner has already been paid for, “By whom?”

“I believe they are on the way over, sir,” the waiter nods and bows out.

His patron takes the seat across from him shifting the salad off to the side of the small round table. It’s at risk of toppling down the side.

“Finally going after someone your own age, Professor?” Noctis asks with a raised eyebrow. One elbow resting on the table leaning into his had as a smug expression covers his face.

“I beg your pardon?” Ignis asks shocked at his student. He has never been so blatantly disrespectful towards him before. He leans back in his chair, studying the man.

“She was pretty cute, too. What did you say? Was she also repulsed by you once she got past your looks?” Ignis refused to let the words cut him as he retained his mask. He remembered the photo, and he acknowledged the childish jealousy that was being flung towards him.

“Ah. I believe you are mistaken. Repulsed by me or not, there is nothing untoward about my communications with your friend,” Ignis called his bluff, repeating the sentiment for what felt like the hundredth time.

The comment has the younger gentleman shifting in his seat with fira in his gaze. “All I’m saying, is that there better not be. I know people. I could make it hurt for you,” he retorts, upping the ante.

“Your father would be so proud in this moment, stepping up and defending your  _ friend _ . Would you like me to call him so we can find out together?” it was now Ignis’s turn to go all in and get him to reveal his cards. Tapping the table once with his phone under his hand. “Regis and I have known each other for quite a while you know. We had a conversation just the other day that I was not make any exceptions for you. You’re on my roster for this next semester, are you not?” Noctis winces as he folds.

“Yeah, I am,” he concedes, seeming to realize the idiotic mistake he’s making in challenging a man that controls his grades. “I suppose I’ll see you tomorrow,” Ignis is already making his way to stand.

“Don’t be late,” comes out of his mouth before he can stop it as the both leave the table in opposite directions. Noctis returning to what looked to be a date himself, and Ignis leaving the front door.

As soon as the door shut behind him and he was out of sight, a sharp exhale escaped him. His composure completely fracturing as he braced a wall alone. He lets out almost a laugh in relief that the heir fell to his bluff. If he hadn’t read about the sizable donation Regis made in Noctis’s name…

He shook his head, making his way to his car. There was nothing he was guilty of. No matter what, all of the threats at the table were hollow.

 

\--

 

He steps out of the shower and is greeted by a friendly message on his phone.

**_Absolutely Off Limits:_ ** _ Ignis!! Classes start tomorrow! Are you so ready? I’m so ready! ( ͡☆ ͜ʖ ͡☆) _

**_Ignis:_ ** _ I confess I am a mixture of excitement and nerves myself. Looking forward to good conversation. _

As usual, after he gives her a reply, she over-zealously texts back. This is either over-excitement at their friendship, or nerves at her uncertainty to make her point more heard.

**_Absolutely Off Limits:_ ** _ [photo attached] _ _  
_ **_Absolutely Off Limits:_ ** _ I’m _

**_Absolutely Off Limits:_ ** _ SO  _

**_Absolutely Off Limits:_ ** _ READY _

**_Absolutely Off Limits:_ ** _ IGNIS. _  
  


He lets the towel he was drying his hair with slip through his grasp. The same hand now covering his mouth as he looks at the image. He’s aware it was meant to be funny, possibly even playful. The photo was composed of her laying down on her bed, surrounded by textbooks supplies and papers, giving an open-mouthed smile of pure delight. Innocent by most standards. There seemed to be something more to it though. Perhaps it was her raised arm pushing against the gravity of her breast creating a delicious swell. Or maybe it was her hair sprawled out under her head.

Astrals she wasn’t wearing a bra. She had to know her nipple was only half-cropped out. His cock pulses to life from under his towel as he looks at the picture. He sets his phone down as if it burned him, clattering on his sink basin. He looks up at his fogged mirror, wiping it away to look at his wet face. Three more notifications chime in moments later.  He swallows hard forcing his breathing even while he picks up his phone to read them. 

**_Absolutely Off Limits:_ ** _ I’m ready to prove with everything that I am that I can get into Dr. Nox Fleuret’s labbbbb. o✧ं｡˚٩( ͡ᵔ ͜ʖ ͡ᵔ٩)⋆｡˚*ْ✧ं _

**_Absolutely Off Limits:_ ** _ >:D  _

**_Absolutely Off Limits:_ ** _ Challenge me! _

He furrows his brows in a jealous anger, remembering he’s more or less means to an end. Without conscious effort, he scrolls up to her picture for a second time. The want for her gets twisted and intertwined with his less amorous feelings. He sighs looking up and away, his hand covering his mouth, biting on his pointer finger as the want becomes more palpable. A cool rush of air sneaks its way into the growing tent wrapped around his waist and he shivers slightly at the sensation.

Opening his bathroom door he throws his phone on his bed in abandonment. He wasn’t going to prove anyone right. He wasn’t going to have any of these  _ urges _ towards her. He sits down at the edge of the bed, back facing the phone that lies in the middle, not yet turned black in idle wait.

An almost bestial logic was crawling up the back of his neck. Pervading his thoughts. No one would know, how could they? This is in the privacy of his home, his personal bedroom. Ravus couldn’t stop him from-- well. He decides to call it diffusing the situation. He was going to do just that.

Shifting himself to the center of the bed, he kneels above his phone. Just one tap to bring back a brighter contrast. Zooming in and panning down on the image until it’s just her and the unintentional sensuality she brings forward. Yes, that was absolutely doing the trick.

Already harder than he anticipated he lets the theater of the mind build around the image while he languidly stroked himself. That’s not a bed anymore. No.

That’s Ravus’s Desk.

A soft grunt escapes him at the concept. Her legs are already up around his waist both of them bare as he kisses up her neck a heated pass. Her back is arching up towards him while her wetness presses against his cock in a teasing fashion. 

He snarls as his hand increases in tempo. Not yet, not quite so fast.

She’s grinding on him as his lips take hers. The kiss is vulgar and needy as he bites her lower lip to hear her moan out too loudly in the small room. That soft undertone of lilly filling his senses as he takes a firm hold of her backside teasing her and getting his cock slick without giving her what she wants. He yanks her hips forward, her hands unintentionally dragging cords with her, knocking the few items off his mentors desk. He gets down on his knees in front of her, the perfect height to fully indulge in the sweetness of her natural scent. Placing kisses up her thighs he would have her straining-- grabbing his hair with a request to go right to the center of her. But he would control this situation. Breathe on her dripping folds, press his nose against her clit first so he could watch her body jolt with the electricity of his touch.

He pumps himself a little harder, the thought of her losing control because of him more arousing to him than he’d considered.

Allowing her hands to finally pull his head forward he would put his flat tongue against her hot and needy cunt. Burrowing his head deeper tasting her from the inside out. She’d want to squeeze her legs around his head but he would brace against it with his shoulder while his hand joined his tongue. His fingers plunging and curling inside of her against that rough texture he knows she’ll find delightful.

His phone idles out, spit stringing together on his lips, “No,” his voice is breathy and foreign to him. He sits up slightly, panting ragged as he wipes his clean hand across his mouth. This subtle adjustment---Shit-- Her mouth is now gently dotted with some of his precome relighting the phone screen. He grabs around the base of his cock fighting back his bodies response to the visual. His saliva strewn hand is now keeping him on the edge. Palm flat against the tip before transitioning back into more flurrying strokes.

She-- She’d come around his fingers crying out his name so loudly that the door. The Door would open and. Ravus would come in just in time to see him shifting her onto her stomach. She’s embarrassed-- No. She’s-- She’s so into this moment with him she doesn’t even notice. And he was beyond caring. She was his to claim. She was his. To.

“Hng--” His hand creates a tighter restraint around his base, his thigh twitching with over-sensitivity at every stroke. More strings of come connecting him to his phone screen as he spreads it on her face. His teeth bared at the practice in holding back.

He plunges himself deep inside of her. Flush and deep in one thrust as loud slapping sounds of their coupling mix in the air. Ravus is looking betrayed not at him, but at her. Because he fucking wanted her, and now he’ll never know the pleasure of it.

Another moan breaks from him.

His penetration is relentless. Furiously thrusting in and out of her slick tight heat she comes around him, and he chases her orgasm. He’d-- would relent until she had another. He picks her up by the waist, his center and ring finger finding her clit and over-stimulating her to the point of crying out.

“Say my name,” he pleads into the night air. He closes his eyes to see her lips move, projecting what it would sound like strained and out of breath. His hand has to stop moving. As he pulls it away there is a slick sound from the built up moisture.

He pulls out from inside of her, ready to come. Ready to. Finally. Come.

“No,” she panted as he pulled out, ready to mark her with his claim. He yielded to her command, waiting for her to beg for it. She keened into the desk her fingers sprawling out as they shifted under the weight of presenting herself to him, “ _ Please _ ,” the request was so desperate it felt hot to his ears, “I  _ need  _ you to come inside of me,” his hand wrapped back around her hips sliding in with no resistance. His body folded down on top of hers, biting into her shoulder as he thrust. How could he ever say no to her?

The thought made him come aggressively on the pixelated image presented on his phone. Her face was made invisible by the amount of thick ropy come covering it. His arm buckled under him, falling backwards flat into his pillow. He looked up at the ceiling, working overtime to catch his breath. He never climaxed harder than when he thought of her.

Dread began paralyzing him as he came down from the high. He seemed to have an all new reason to catch his breath: Panic. He went to rub a hand down his face but his dominant hand was covered in a layer of spit and semen. The guilt of his actions caused the fish dinner to swim upstream for a moment before he swallowed it down. Repressing it. Repressing everything.

He sat up, careful not to touch anything beyond his phone. The duvet around it was a mess, but, he could deal with that tomorrow. It was dreadfully late already but he had to- he’d have to clean off his phone. Wash his hands.

He kept washing them, scrubbing up to his elbows and back down his wrists. His fingers braced against each others base as he twisted and rung them out. He repeated the process three times before he lifted his hands out of the sink when he realized what he was doing. He looked at his face, hair dry now and falling flat in front of his eyes.

He couldn’t wash away this guilt. No amount of water would remove the burning feelings in his stomach. That was the last, and only time he would do this.

He would keep his word-- He would do everything in his power to make sure her brilliant ideas-- what he actually cared about more than her physical body-- would be published and seen.

He needed to make sure she knew.

 

**_Ignis:_ ** _ Please address me as either Dr. Scientia or Professor during class. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lutum means dirt >_>;;
> 
> I have no plans, this fan fiction is a kite that could last for a really long time, or I could wrap it up in like, 9 more chapters.
> 
> Who knows.
> 
> I sure don't.
> 
> Thank you for reading!


	3. B is for But I thought we were Friends!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Second Semester Sophmore year:
> 
> Wait.
> 
> Wait how is everything getting so out of control?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Minor sexual harassment TW during the Advanced Practical Elemancy Application.

Alright! Sophomore year, second semester was going to be your bitch.

Actually, you hated that term. Where did that even come from? You needed to stop playing co-op games with Prompto and your dark haired associate— the anonymous players that joined in were absolutely trash people. Not that you would have time to mess around this semester. So that problem should solve itself.

You can’t believe how much shit Prom was giving you over your semester load. You could handle 22 credits, you did fine with 18 last semester. Frankly, you were bored in most classes, and you wanted the stimulation. You’d had to talk to the dean in order to make it happen, and it took… An enormous effort to make it come it into fruition. But fuck that noise, you’d never let anything stop you before. You were the physical embodiment of momentum, an unstoppable force. You just… You put up something a little bit over-valuable on the table in order to prove you could handle it. The scholarship funding you’d received, the one that would take you through the next two and a half years.

Getting Dean Leonis to see the benefits of you giving back what would remain of the scholarship if you got to graduate early was a challenge. He was so kind, it became one of the most strained conversations you’d had in a long time.

“No. This is your housing and your future textbooks. You earned this. You deserve this. I refuse to put it up as an option.”

He cared about his students. He had this comforting way of making you feel like he actually cared about your health, and not just making money. That teddy-bear was really good at his job. You went down the insane list of pros and cons that you’d laid out— and he continued to add to your con list, while you, of course, continued to add to the pro-list. By the end of the battle of wills, there were contingency plans set out into place to make sure you wouldn’t lose your funding if something didn’t go well. You would drop the class when you hit a C grade, and if you ended up at under 15 credits you would lose funding regardless. That wasn’t going to happen. You now had permission to move forward. That’s all that mattered.

Sure you were overloading yourself— but that’s what you do. You work incredibly hard to make sure you can accelerate the process of graduation and get to work faster. If you maintained this course load, you could either have an incredibly light first semester senior year or, dreams coming true, graduate a year early. You started college late into age 19, you’re already a little behind on where you wanted to be. You’d be turning 21 at the start of summer— That thought alone was jarring enough but, shit! At least you could have a drink to unwind and it won’t risk your whole career.

Ifrits-flaming-taint! You were so grateful Ignis hadn’t given you grief for drinking underage. He probably didn’t know you were underage as the three of you had very skillfully stolen those wristbands but... That was a huge risk with little reward and it did nothing to placate the— well. The weird feelings you were just shoving down. Maybe stoicism did have its place.

Gods, and he called you on it too. That little double-back-pat was so humiliating. It made you look at how close you two had become mentally when all you had done was vaguely complain about it. Why did you remember that searing touch so clearly? If you reflected on the thought for too long you could still remember the pressure of his fingertips holding you into his figure with sympathetic support. He’d smelled like cleanlaund— Nope. Nope absolutely not. What is wrong with you? He was clearly giving you a pity hold. And them Prompto came and saved you  _ again _ as you made  _ another _ horrible impression on Dr. Nox Fleuret.

Augh! There’s that weird sinking feeling every time you even think about Prom’s smiling face as he looked at other girls. A face he would never give to you. The fact that he actually seemed to be doing well playing the field was equally as concerning. Sure it was unfathomably rude to throw him at Cindy knowing she was in a relationship already, but it did the job and he was too distracted that evening to score anyway. And Cindy thought it was funny. But that’s not really an excuse for your behavior. Ugh. UGH. Stop thinking about this!

—

As you’re making your 30 minute commute via bus you look at the text Ignis sent again. The initial impulse to say you were excited to see him just vanishes.

You feel a heavy weight on your chest overwhelm you. This was a mixed drink of embarrassment with side of shot of shame and, you knew it well. Had you been too casual with your flood of texting? Just, berating him with excitement? He is your instructor, after all, but… He said you could contact him at any time. You felt so oddly close to him— more than anyone you’d ever connected with. Even Prom! Well, at least on an intellectual level. Definitely on an intellectual level.

It all happened in a hilariously short amount of time, too. After the first meeting, it was like he was inside your brain. He just waltzed in, found a comfortable spot in the corner and proudly stated, ‘You have my gratitude for the suitable accommodations.’ He was finishing your sentences and flowing through the thoughts you were about to make. There was no judgement behind his words, and thinly veiled enthusiasm seemed to come from him during your discussions. Even when you went a little outlandish, his comments were always, ‘Interesting proposal,’ with this weird glint in his eyes that just floored you. Because fuck his stoicism, Yeah! It had nothing to do with how the light would play off his striking green eyes. None at all.

You pulled both your lips into your mouth, worrying them over-long as they gently crushed between your teeth. Your thinking face had your expression all over it, almost having a public discussion without having to speak aloud. The conversation was a simple one. ‘I don’t want to lose you as a friend, please forgive my lack of professionalism,’ and then he’d nod, giving you that almost-smile. Gods. Even that phrasing was a contradiction. You’re a mess.

This year he didn’t get the benefit of being your first class of the day, but you had to fucking impress him. You needed to be successful because if you did this right, you could start a year early with Dr. Nox Fleuret, and you really— gods you really needed his help.

The weak echo of ‘I love you,’ plays back in your head for what feels like the millionth time and you cringe. Just a full body cringe. You can see the future the title of your biography in the discount section of a resale book store. The title is written in loud and bold bright red letters: ‘What the FUCK is wrong with YOU??!’— Wait, no better ‘How to be Fucking WRONG: The story of my life.’ Yeah. That seems right.

Perhaps right now, it would be best to simply pull out your starting syllabus and start reading your schedule for the 60th time to distract your mind.

—

Noctis was at the bus stop playing on his phone and feigning disinterest as he watched people get off. As you descended the last step, he looked up at you and waved. Like he was waiting for you.

Wait. Why— Augh. Okay. Weird. Fine. You don’t have time to even reflect on why this is. Only 19 minutes and 32 seconds left before your day.

You greeted him with a roll of your eyes and he seems to smile. Once again, he was casually mussed up, but at least this time he had the decency to just wear a black t-shirt. Your eyes trail the skull motif cascading down his chest in ombré, the black capri-things, all the way down to his black boots. A quick flick back up to his slightly flustered face and he looks like he’s almost squirming under the attention. Ha! That’s right, feel the judgement.

It really was such a startlingly new look for him. Something about it felt try-hard after he re-wore the same King's Knight shirt seven days in a row last semester. With Uggs. You envied his comfort and lack of social pressures. He could do whatever he wanted and it would be trend-setting. He was  _ Noctis _ . Gods, that was in Iris’s voice in your head and everything.

You begin to make way towards your first class, apparently with him tow. Was he corralling you to the left? Is he a dog or something? You  _ knew _ where you were going, he didn’t have to guide you.

“Do we have the same class together or something?” Well, you never did properly greet him away. It’s just unfortunate that he is the first in the line of unfair sniping as you mentally yelled at yourself for things he didn’t contribute to. Prom asked you to  _ try and be nice _ . Fine. FINE. You could do that. Maybe. Oh just  _ try! _

He has the indecency to laugh at your comment with a full smile on his face, “Yeah. You told Prompto and me your schedule,” he gave you a skeptical glance pulling something from the side of his backpack and handing it to you. Of course he starts off with a thoughtful gesture. Trying to weaken your resolve force you to go easy on him. Jokes on him, it won’t work! Not with this stubborn streak this morning! Shit, no,  _ come on _ . You said you’d try! Augh—You’re so not in the right headspace to deal with this.

“Thanks. I love. Ebony,” You all but ripped the cans from his hands. The words absolutely not matching their strained tone as they filter through a forced smile. There, you tried. Opening it and beginning to drink it, you recall having a conversation with  _ Prompto _ and Noctis being there. He didn’t tell you what classes he was taking, let alone overlapping with you.

“Oh, I know.”

Why was he giving you such a shitty smile? You maintained a strained eye contact as you continued to chug the drink, walk, and mentally prep for Advanced Practical Elemancy Application— APEA. It was going to be a daemon of a class. You nearly bump into someone but Noctis seems to have more sense of mind than you do this morning as he breaks the your trying-not-to-glare-contact and guide-dogs you out of the way.

—

The buildings that house magical cultivation are separate and a bit further off from the rest of them. This was of course, just in case a graduate has a difficult time harnessing a spell and blew up a wing of the building. It’s just, shoved off to the side, surrounded by its own garden with ingredients everywhere. It may be one of the most beautiful buildings on campus.

You enter the classroom and it’s. Wait. Woah— Advanced Elemancy application it is, apparently. Though, it didn’t say anything about actually utilizing the magical spells you would be developing in the syllabus. Isn’t that doctorate level stuff?

The room has nothing in it besides a large glass wall that observes another room blacked by magic behind it. It’s looks like a giant terrarium for demonstrations. It makes sense that we will be putting our magical spells on display but, that seemed incredibly dangerous. Who would be casting them? And a lot of people won’t be able to see the casting simply because the room wasn’t built like an auditorium.

It also looks like you’ve arrived on time in relation to the other students in the class, as there are about twelve other people lingering around, not sure what to do besides stand awkwardly and pretend not to look at each other. Checking your watch, you’ve still got about 9 minutes before class starts. Oh shit. This… This may not be a stand out class for you. There’s a lot of fellow over-achievers in here. Not only that, it’s already one of your weaker subjects.

Augh, why are you so desperately insecure today? You a Valkyrie of Magical Science and Truth. You can  _ do anything. _ You take in a deep breath and hold it for a second, raising your head up for a moment. You let it out slowly and peak about the room with a new perspective, the caffeine entering your veins and making you feel more alive. Just to take your mind away from the distracting thoughts, you walk over to another door that looks to lead into a small hallway.

It looks as though it connects to the lab, and you can only tell because the window on the door reveals the peaking of a more comfortable area. Lab desks and the proper ingredients for cultivating some advanced spells. Man, you’d like to see if any of your practical knowledge is going to get you anywhere.

You attempt to take another sip of the Ebony, but it’s already empty. You sigh at the empty can and check your watch to see if you have time to snag another. No, it’s not likely with 7 minutes and thirty three seconds before class begins. As you turn you physically bump into Noctis with your messenger bag and hold back an exaggerated sigh and instead loose an apology. He was reaching for your Ebony can in slow motion.

“Let me get that for you,” you genuinely can’t read his expression. There’s something weird and distressed about it. Hopeful even? Why is he acting so strange today??

“I’m perfectly capable of finding a recycle bin, Noctis.”

“You can call me Noct, really,” his hand goes behind his head as he looks down, away, and then up again this time past you.

“Why?” You look around the room. There are no trash cans. You awkwardly force it in your over-encumbered and seen-better days bag. The weight of your pre-purchased textbooks is starting to become painful as you let it slide off your shoulder onto the ground. How are there no chairs in this classroom?

You cross your arms as you stare down your nose at Noctis. He looks like he’s trying to find some words to say and struggling even in that endeavor. You rub your hand down the front of your face in exasperation and look to the door. More students begin to crowd the classroom, and all of them awkwardly uncertain and just sort of standing about.

The classroom was filled with a blinding light. Electricity, fire, and then ice filling up the glass in a repeated dance. The magic was so strong, it just kept going— Dual cast, tricast… Quadcast! You’d only ever read about quadcast!! The electricity followed a strange but beautiful pattern along the glass, crawling along the almost invisible filaments of a conductor embedded within to prevent it from going past.

This was what Elemancy was. This was the power of Magic.

Your heart burst while your face flushed. You couldn’t hide the smile or excitement at the concept of watching that powerful display of reality bending magic. As dangerous as it was, it could do so, so much good in the world when utilized correctly. And you were honored to have the opportunity to potentially lead the charge in that regard.

As the spell settled, a man stood in the middle of the chaos. A long, black and white patterned scarf, a modern coat with an anachronistic flourish to the lapels, and a fucking Fedora. There was your professor for the semester. The illustrious Dr. Izunia, winner of two Lux Splendida prizes— the absolute highest honor in the sciences. He was  _ supposed _ to be the gem at the school but…

Everything you’ve researched and looked into… You were full of skepticism. That second award really should have gone to Dr. Nox Fleuret. Dr. Izunia all but dropped and neglected every lead that was developed, but kept the rights to the research under patent not allowing further study outside of his lab. Instead, he seemed to be sending out this random scattering of concepts that were completely unfocused and possibly derived only from his lab students trying to cobble together a project. But he kept getting funding, and his students kept leaving magic behind.

The fact that Dr. Nox Fleuret left the lab so quickly after graduation as a lead himself, was both a testament to his skill and an underhanded slight towards Dr. Izunia. You were starting out this class with a bias against him, regardless of how neutral you were trying to feel.

Allowing smoke and frost to further decorate his garish appearance, he makes a grand entrance with open arms.

“Ah yes,” an unsettling grin stretched across his features as he scanned the classroom. His eyes focusing hard on Noctis, “Welcome one and all to a class that will genuinely test your limits. Please call me Ardyn,” you don’t understand the sudden urge to interrupt the piercing stare by physically getting in between him and Noct, but, the urge was strong. He’s your rival. You shouldn’t want to protect him. He should feel that glare— But you were unsettled by it. 

He finally breaks from Noctis’ gaze after a moment of pause, “For when friends go on a difficult journey together, they quite quickly flourish to a first name-basis,” he continues to scan the students, lifting a hand and urging them to follow as he made his way to the door out to the hall.

—

You were taken outside to the courtyard, and the atmosphere felt… strange. Forced into congeniality, and almost theatrical. He rested his foot up on a rock under a tree.

“We’re all on an equal and level playing field here, aren’t we?” He smoothly purred out. It was unsettling as the other classmates seemed to roll into it, enraptured by his carefully cultivated charisma. “Now sit down everyone, and we will go over the technique of elemancy extraction together.”

You were not sitting and looking up at this man like he was your shepard. So you stood, slowly growing more uncomfortable with the weight of your overencumbered bag on your shoulder. He smiled at you— no wait. Noctis was standing at your side as well, and you were invisible. But shit, there was hell fire in Dr. Izunia’s gaze. Almost uncontrolled, you physically shift in front of Noctis. Shit, he may be your rival but this seemed fucked up. This weird, hyperfocus that seemed blended with unwarranted malicious intent.

Oh. Oh no.

Now that you’re in the way, you recognize what that face meant. You’d seen it before, usually from women and older business men trying to climb a ladder through the empire’s heir. Traditionally, they would make an effort of faking being a father figure. In the few years you known Noctis, you had always called them on their bullshit in front of him. No one deserved to be manipulated like that.

In the beginning, he would yell at you for it, telling Prompto you were a monster and you never forgave him for that. He was feeling hurt and betrayed by more than one person in his life, the embarrassment of having someone called out in a public event was also painful. You however, didn’t have a lot to lose, if anything, and it brought you joy to see them wither. Watching them wilt under the accusations before regaining their con-man swagger, you refused to back down. You understood his hurt, but you refused to apologize. You were his rival for a lot of different reasons, unwilling to pander to him just because he had money. Regardless of how hard it was to hear the truth that you were being used, a person needed to know. It fucking sucked.

And this motherfucker is hunting Noctis’ money.

No. Absolutely not. He was far too naturally gifted to be selected for something other than his brain. You glared back.

“Come now, you’re going to want to make yourselves comfortable, aren’t you?” Noctis looked at you uncertain, he was… why was he waiting to follow your lead?

“I’m not stopping you,” you snapped at him in a whisper. Crossing your arms in defiance you returned to watch the lecture. Your rival kicked a loose rock on the ground before resting on the grass. You pulled out a notebook, resting more weight on your messenger bag as you prepared to take notes.

This seemed to settle Dr. Izunia, as you were barely registering on his radar. Good. You didn’t need to matter, and shit, you really stepped in it by trying to stick up for  _ your fucking nemesis.  _ You’re going to get a tattoo that says ‘make good choices,’ on the palm of your hand to solidify the concept when you smacked yourself in the face.

—

You wouldn’t have been worried about your misstep had he not pulled you aside after the class was over— and it had already ran over.

“I admit, I find two things about you quite fascinating,” he leered as you tried not to panic-check your watch. It burned at your wrist with the need to be looked at. You were already quite far behind. He was uncomfortably invading your personal space, and you could smell the oppressive spice of his aftershave. Everything about him made you uncomfortable. Shit, everything about today was terrible. 

Fuck.

**FUCK** .

He took your silence and eye-contact as permission to keep babbling on, as if the one hour and forty eight minute lecture wasn’t enough time to hear him prattle about things you’d already learned. Augh— of course the basics were Import— oh my god you can barely concentrate on a word this man says. Focus up, Champ. You’ve got this!

“—and second, that Noctis just dotes on you, to the point where he’s lingering just around that corner waiting for your attention now,” he gently touches your face. Oh my ASTRALS.  _ WHAT _ . Why?? You didn’t give him any permission for this behavior in the slightest. You’re scowling now, you can’t help it, and he seems to like that you’re scowling. He’s laughing. You’re going to miss your bus to get to the main campus. You squirm out of his grip, “Quite frankly I don’t see the appeal but—“

“Excuse me, but I have to get going, Dr. Izunia,” yeah fuck getting negged today. You didn’t need that shit. Why is your voice so quiet? You’re shrinking in on yourself. You can barely handle your level of discomfort. You begin a soft retreat and he matches your back steps with steps forward.

“Now now, what did I say, pet? It’s Ardyn. You will call me Ardyn,” he rolls his eyes with his shoulders, “There’s always one of you in my classes,” he tut-tuts with a malicious grin, almost cornering you now. “It doesn’t make you come off as any more respectable to say my last name when I’ve specifically…  _ requested _ to be called by my first,” his hand is making its way to touch your face again and you feint to lean in before pulling away completely. Something to let him think you’ve given into his charms just to let you get to your next class on fucking time. This man was older than your father by several years. This was so fucked up. You needed to do something to get away from him. It seems to work as he softens slightly, a bit more delight entering his face.

“Sorry,  _ Ardyn _ ,” you barely breathe out, coming across as shy. Fuck it, you  _ felt _ shy and belittled. Your stomach was pure knots and twisting around your ebony. The name almost hurt to say, and you were feeling a real subverted rage at his demand. But like a good, demure little girl you played it passive and smiled in your discomfort. You hated this aspect of you. The part of you that crippled under the weight of approval; the one that buckled under the weight of authority figures and made you lose who you were.

He continued to study you for a minute more in a tense silence, his arm preventing you from leaving, “You know, you almost remind me of someone I once knew, when you tilt your head down like that,” Buhumats serrated dick, what the fuck does that even mean?

Could he be any more inappropriate?! You wanted to scream but instead you just smiled and nodded curling in harder on yourself.

“I’ve heard so much about you, but I’m surprised, you’re certainly not living up to the expectations—“ you hear an interrupting cough as Noctis is walking up to you two.

He grabs your hand and you take it, “sorry Professor but we have to get going,” he sounds more stern than you’d expected and all of Ardyn's attention hyperfocus’ on him. He doesn’t wait for a reply as you are pulled out of the room.

Allowing him to pull you away you wait for a few minutes before speaking. Or at least you try, but he’s pulling you into a run, and you look at your watch to realize why. You had two minutes to get to the bus stop— exactly two and you didn’t know if that would be enough time, and what if the bus had arrived early? This was the second stop and the next one… you wouldn’t make it to class.

“You need to at least  _ try  _ to stay off of his radar, okay?” Noctis looked furious as he guided you along. Your bag kept straining against your shoulder as it bounced against your leg, trying to keep up with his surprisingly long strides. Each jogging step causing it to bounce up and down with your tempo.

“No shit! But that might be a lost cause already,” you pant out, breathing heavily. You hear a weird ripping sound as your shoulder suddenly gets significantly lighter.

Why now?!

Your bag spills out all over the concrete sidewalk and you have to rip your hand from Noctis’s grip in a pivoting stumble to pick it all back up. In a flash he’s at your side, helping you as you shovel your things into the bag. He grabs it, holding it under one arm, the opposite offering to help you up.

“Come on! We have to get going, Dr. Scientia locks his door if you’re late,” he is pushing some residual rage onto you and you feel yourself flinch in reaction to his yell. You feel the stress of the day pricking at the corners of your eyes.

“You don’t think I fucking know that?” the strain of the situation makes your voice break. You’re about to take a moment to try and compose yourself, but he seems to have no sympathy for you as he grabs you and pulls you up.

“I know this is important to you,” his face barley softens, and he’s frowning with something that could possibly be guilt but you’re not certain. He lets out a sigh as he looks up at the sky shaking his head and beginning to pull you into a run again, not releasing your hand, “just— let’s get there together okay?” he squeezed it, furrowed brows and an attempt to smile at you over his shoulder.

You rip your hand out of his and make a grab for your bag. How dare— How dare he try to comfort you after yelling at you so unexpectedly. As if it was your fault that Dr. Izunia was being a creep. He didn’t have to wait for you to leave the class, he could have gotten there on time. He didn’t have to do shit for you. Ever. Fuck him. Why is he like this? Why did Dr. Izunia touch your face and corner you like that? Why is your throat so tight?

He shakes his head at your silence and has takes off ahead of you, keeping your bag under his arm. “What is in here? A ton of bricks? Are you weight training?” You allow yourself the puff of a laugh that escapes. It was easier to keep up with him now that you weren’t encumbered.

You wipe your eyes with the back of your hand, the mind mantra that you can do anything replaying over and over. You will make it. Your breath is labored by more than just the run as stress continues to snake through your inner organs.

Looking ahead, you see taillights pulling away.

 

You missed your fucking bus.

—

The door was, of course, locked. Even on the first day of class, Igni—Dr. Scientia was right in his desire to not be interrupted by the people walking into his class. In the middle of the lecture. Fuck you hated Dr. Izuina for this moment above everything else that had happened.

This was a continuation of the first semester's class, not some bullshite orientation class that ran over by a half hour for  _ no reason at all. _

You were  _ seventeen minutes late _ to class. You stood at door, looking through the window— the stress of the situation has you almost in tears. Almost. You were disgusting coated in sweat that dripped down your brow from having to run the two miles to his classroom as fast as you could. Your nemesis was in even worse shape from carrying your bag the entire way. Okay. Maybe he wasn’t quite your nemesis— at least not in this moment.

Noct tried the door a second time while you were peeking into the classroom and the sound catches the attention of your current favorite professor. The cold stare he gives to you through the door makes you take in a sharp breath. You’d never seen him look so neutral and irritated. Not at you. Your face contorts into the painful shock and distressed frown that you feel.

His face shifts slightly as he recognizes you. Oh shit—- no this is worse. This is the worst thing ever. He looks so disappointed as his body posture slackens slightly. A small frown on his face as he looks back to the chalkboard. He hesitates in his writing and you feel this enormous well of hope as he pinches the bridge of his nose under his glasses. You can see him let out a sigh.

He is walking over to the door. You are getting another exception from him and you’re so happy you may  _ actually cry _ . You give Noctis your relieved smile and he nods in agreement, blown away. He’d been locked out of the class on several occasions last year and was never given any exception.

You felt fucking special in this moment. You smile at him with all the gratitude in your chest.

“I’m so sor—“ you’re cut off by a raised hand and he gestures to the seating, locking the door behind you and Noctis. He deftly moves back to the front of the classroom, not looking at you. Wait no, one glance was spared and it was partnered with a disappointed sigh. Everything hurts and you’re dying.

You look at your designated spot in the front row and it is full of— Holy shit it’s all girls— wait no. Some of the out boys too. As many as possible are sitting in the front. You suppose his maintained look has something to do with this serious thirst. This could have been funny, if you had managed to snag your designated spot. Because you were there to learn from him, not stare at his ass all day. Now, the only spots left were in the back. You would have to strain to hear him.

Noctis seems to think he has permission to hold your hand because you let him earlier. He has the audacity to lace your fingers together while escorting you up the stairs. He might basically be royalty, but he had no right. There was no way he was going to parade in your shame. It only took two sets of whispers to cause a full distraction from the lecture. Augh! Fuck! You finally manage to wiggle your way out of his grip as you get halfway up the steps on the side of the classroom. You hear Ignis break his chalk, sigh again, pick up a new piece and continue writing. Shit, you needed to make less of a fuss.

Settling down you’re feeling a sense of calm wash over you as you listen to Dr. Scientia lecture. The man should read an audio novel. You are diligent in catching up, trying to figure out exactly where he is. You’re delighted when he seems to give you another break. He brings up the chapter number and title in a sentence without breaking his flow and you feel so relieved, you have to bite back your smile. It’s a little disappointing, since you’re so far back, he’s unable to respond to any comments you make under your breath.

Ten minutes in and you already so deeply missed the banter. From the way he would look over his shoulder expecting an answer at the girl now sitting in your spot— well. Because you knew him, you could read that he was slightly shaken but, perhaps from an outsider's perspective he seemed like he was just hoping for an answer. You weren't sure, but it looked like she perked up every time he spared her a glance. Or maybe she was just arching her back.

She always tried to answer, and she kept getting it wrong. She’d giggle a little and comment that she had so much to learn from him… Every time. You wanted to puke at this weird display and he looked as uncomfortable as he rightfully should. She was his student, and she didn’t give any impression that she was interested in learning any theoretical elemancy from him.

Noctis flicked the pencil in your fingers as if to bring attention to the fact that you had been progressively increasing the tempo and volume of the tapping rapt on your desk as you watched her shitty attempts at sleeping her way to a good grade. Okay unfair comment, you don’t  _ know that _ .

The pencil flies out of your grip across the back of the classroom into the wall and falling down some steps. It. Just. Keeps. Rolling. Down. More. And. More. Steps. It is somehow louder and louder to you with every fall. You know that is impossible but you can’t stop the physical wince. The pencil is the visual representation of your day.

“What the fuck dude?” You hiss out at him. He had the worst timing in the world. Ignis had— Fuck!  _ Professor Scientia _ had paused in his lecture the moment before and the class was silent.

“It’s distracting,” he leans close to you to whisper it under his breath. Too close, why did he get so close? You were  _ done _ with men getting too close to you today. Your hands are on his shoulders ready to shove him when Ignis turns around after finishing his formula.

He is looking right at you, frowning with a furrowed brow. It wasn’t even anger— it was... this absolutely terrible, subtle sadness. You were disappointing. You were being disruptive, you were never disruptive! Well, not in a negative way.

It’s okay, as soon as class was over. You’d sign up for after hours and have a lovely discussion and this would all pass. After all, he promised you he’d help in any way he could.

You just— You promised you would prove yourself in turn. And here you are, being late, interrupting. Just overall failing at fulfilling your side of the bargain. You shrink in your seat and look away as he continues lecturing as if no secret levels of communication just happened between you two.

At least Noctis is back in his seat. His arms are crossed and he seems to finally be hyper focused on the lecture.

—

By the time you got down the steps to the paper that held reservations for after hours, it had already been filled. It was full for the next two weeks— and it didn’t go past that. You closed your eyes hard, holding the pencil up and fighting the urge to cross out someone else’s name. You see the same woman’s name every night in the same time slot, from 6:30-7pm,  _ your old time slot.  _ You weren’t mad. Ig—Dr. Scientia can have more than one favorite pupil. It’s fine. 

It was probably for the best— this semester was going to be a doozy of a time anyway.

Closing his briefcase at the end of class Dr. Scientia, ha right this time, looks up at you. You’re drawn in with Noctis following close behind. Your professors gaze at you is a collected neutral, and not the one you’re familiar with. You swallow hard, feeling your tardiness in your bones.

“Are you quite alright today?” His tone betrays his genuine concern and you feel yourself relax. You don’t understand why his guard is up so high, but you’ll concede to his stupid stoicism. Or at least you’ll try as a smile crosses your face in some attempt to hide the growing stress of your day. His face is showing signs of softening as you maintain eye contact for probably too long. He’s waiting for you to speak, and you just can’t get past your guilt.

“I want to apologize for-“ he looks away from you shaking his head returning his gaze to his bag.

“I do not wish to hear apologies or excuses. Not from you,” his fingers tap his bag as he works his jaw, looking up at Noctis first, then to you, “Please do better,” he nods and makes his way out the door.

You look at your temporary ally and swallow down your own feelings. But the frown and the stinging in the corner of your eyes has you running your fingers through your hair. Taking in a deep breath you nod at Noctis expecting him to follow. He gently pats your shoulder, and you let the sigh escape. He has the decency to give you a moment before he speaks.

“Hey, tomorrow will be better,” he gives you a soft apologetic smile. “Why don’t you come to my— Prompto’s tonight and we’ll all have some pizza and just study some of this? I’m done for the day so… Do you want us to pick you up after classes?”

You felt a weird urge to punch him in the arm for telling you exactly what you wanted to hear and offering you just what you needed. Instead you glared at him, nodding in agreement and made your way out of the classroom leaving him behind.

You still had two classes left today, and you sighed out ready to pursue them.

—

Noctis was there to pick you up like he promised but there was no Prompto in sight. Your lips drew tight at the sight. His hair was wet but freshly styled, and you coveted his cleanliness. You still felt salty from the run earlier in the summer heat.

“Where is Prom?” Your confidence had come back after working with Professor Crowe and Professor Sania. They are both brilliant and wonderfully strong women that encouraged your outbursts. Sania especially.

You really did love this school so, so much. Perhaps one of them could replace your after hours with Ignis. Professor Sania and her quick wit and enthusiasm was becoming your second choice lab. You  _ loved _ her. However, you just had such little interest in the type of biology she was studying. Maybe you could feed off her excitement and try. It would be a waste to not pursue magic at the leading institution though...

Oh shit, Noctis has been talking the whole time you’ve been ruminating, brushing your hand with his as you are walking. “So that’s why he can’t pick you up,” he is rubbing the back of his neck with his outside arm, looking around awkwardly. Reflect, what did he just say?

Prompto has someone over. Right. Well, maybe we can all study together regardless.

His hand bumps yours for the final time. You grab Noct’s wrist to make him stop with the obnoxious hang-grazing. It was making you feel slightly crazy so you shove the fingers into his pocket to get him to stop. He’d been nothing but kind towards you for some weird reason, something Prompto pointed out over and over again, but you just— he’s your punching bag. It’s so easy to do things like this to him when you’re upset about other situations, because he took it like a champ. For Shiva’s sake he was laughing at the awkwardness of it. You bully him with your shoulder, your bag hitting his knee making him stumble and he grabs your shoulder for balance shoving you back.

Now you were laughing, just a few blocks from their place. You sighed out. It was nice.

Walking up the steps of their overbearing and grand apartment building, the door is opened for you by a doorman. You instantly feel intimidated. Wealth at this level was not something you ever thought you’d experience first hand. The carpet you’re nearly dragging your broken bag on had to cost more than six months rent for yourself. The lavishness of it made your stomach swirl in a weird bitter jealousy, as someone else summons the elevator for him.

Since you were dicking around looking about the lobby, the liftman almost stops you from getting on with him.

What the hell? Who the fuck is this—

“It’s fine, she’s my friend,” he waves off the next gate keeper and they look down their nose towards you. He puts his key in the penthouse lock, and turns it holding the door for you to enter. Getting onto the elevator you look at your dirty shoes and see your reflection in the mirrored panels. Augh. You did look more raggaged than normal. Turning around, you realize it’s a glass elevator that looks down into the lobby. You walk to the edge and look down— And it.

It just keeps getting higher. At a seriously alarming rate.

You white-knuckle the support bar and can’t break away from the vertigo, almost feeling your body falling through the glass. Breath coming out in small pants as your stomach falls out from under you. It’s a distinct prickling sensation of prickling cold that flows from your fingertips and seems to poison you with a burn between your shoulders. It constricts your chest. There’s a presence at your waist that pulls on you and fights your grip free from the bar. No, you can’t let go, you’ll fall out and  _ die.  _ The hands are persistent, stronger than you are, as they manage to pull you away from the glass and turn you around. Your legs are stiff as black hair and blue eyes make weak attempts to pull you back to reality, rubbing your shoulders to calm you down.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t know you were afraid of heights,” the voice is panicked and far away. Your brain is trying to focus on who is in front of you and it starts to click. Suddenly, the light falls out from behind you as the elevator pulls up to the top floor, removing the view, and dings open.

You shove Noctis away from you feeling completely unsettled. He stumbles away slightly and you’re just standing there doe-legged, feeling foolish, and strangely paralyzed. For the first time, he sighs at your antics and pulls you forward.

“We can take the service elevator down next time, it doesn’t have a glass backing,” he squeezes the hand he’s snagged and you just. You rip you hand away and rub up and down your face regaining yourself. All you wanted to do was hang out with Prompto.

“When did you guys move in here?” You just wanted to change the subject and get away from the chaos that was behind you. Looking around, you realize, you’re  _ in _ the apartment. It’s a front room for hanging coats with an unnecessarily lavish chandelier and high ceilings that seemed pointless.The key made more sense now.

“Oh well. It’s uh,” Oh Astrals. It was his fucking building wasn’t it. You rolled your eyes just unwilling to hear how he wasn’t paying rent for a family-of-eight-sized apartment and you walk to the door to get inside.

“It’s fine, I’m remembering Prompto said you moved in together last semester,” you kick off your in-need-of-a-polish-and-some-love boots in the foyer and look about the place. Thankfully, the sun was setting and the tall floor to ceiling windows weren’t as intimidating as they could be. Still, you found yourself walking more towards the center of the building avoiding the view.

Noct walked over to a small wall panel and pressed a button, the curtains coming down automatically. You suddenly felt significantly more relaxed and ready to explore the open floor-plan. Soft music began playing, probably an attempt to cover up the weird noises that were coming from a room down the hall.

Weird moaning sounds. Oh my GODS.  _ Prompto had someone over. _

You looked right at Noct with your mouth hanging open, pointing towards the sounds. He simply responds by looking away and turning up the relaxing music. Your stomach turned to acid at the thought of. At the thought of your Prom with someone else. You knew he didn’t see you that way, but... It would have been nice to have even been considered.

“The pizza will be here in about five minutes,” he comments with a slightly louder tone. He’s either trying to speak over the music, or your thoughts. You look for a place to settle in and you’re lost between the couch or the formal dining area and look at him again. He waves a hand to follow him to a hallway on the other side of the house, or, uh, apartment. Blinds were already down to hide the windows in the hallway. Like a weird streetfront or a mall— Neah. Honestly you couldn’t shit on this. If you weren’t afraid of heights this view would probably be amazing and it was absolutely crazy that a place like this could exist.

You follow him and he opens a door that makes you drop your bag and all of your composure. You rush in past him and he’s smiling at your delight.

Your hands lay flat on the glass protecting the books while you look inside. “Is this a first edition?” You whirl around in the miniature library, running to another shelf, “is  _ this _ a first edition?” You thoughtlessly open the cabinet and smell the book like a mad woman. “Nothing is better than the strange aged scent of Vanilla that permeates an ancient book,” you can’t help but look at it with the deepest affection, fingers trailing the hand-written words. Some of the first etchings and theories about magical composition, all outdated, present themselves in the book.

It was beautiful, and absolutely useless. You couldn’t stop smiling at the piece of history in your hands. Noctis cleared his throat surprisingly close to your ear, “I didn’t even realize we had that one?” He’s looking over your shoulder and you brush your nose against his as you turn. Recoiling at the sudden closeness, all the magic is gone. Great. Just a room then. No wonder he had such advantages in his classes, he had all this beautiful research surrounding him. Even if it was apparently distressingly underutilized.

You place the book on the shelf and close it, heading to a single-seating chair in the room purposefully avoiding the couch, spreading some books on the small coffee table in front of you.

Noctis keeps his hand on his nose overlong before settling in behind the desk and following suit, sitting down just in time to hear the pretentious bell of the door.

“That’s the food,” he shifts getting up and looks like he’s asking you to follow but you just stare at him. You have a fake smile on your face and the whole situation feels weird.

You wished Prompto would hurry up with his… God did you even want to see him after he finished fucking some random person… people? Being fucked? You worried a hangnail on your thumb when you heard his voice. Your stomach drops out for what feels like the 6th time today.

“Hey dude! Pizza, nice!” Oh wow he sounded  _ awfully chipper _ . You began to sneak to the doorway to try and eavesdrop a little better.

“No pizza for you,” interesting, Noctis seems to be giving him some hushed whispering. You hear him call your name, “We don’t eat in there, come on out here,” he had set up two plates on the kitchen island while Prompto was making an argument of how he needed the extra calories after that session. He was, as you previously so affectionately thought, the worst whisperer you’ve ever encountered.

There were five different pizzas on the counter, and you felt so confused.

“I uh, didn’t know which one you’d like so I got a few flavors there’s,” Noctis is now pointing them out and smacking Prompto’s hand away.

“Dude, she doesn’t like any of these, she’s a sausage mushroom kind of girl,” he finally successfully sniped a piece and was talking with a half full mouth. He was shirtless and glistening a little, already walking towards you with an arm open to pull you into a hug of possibly his and  _ someone else’s sweat. _

You cringed initially, but the hug still has the effect of being comforting. He smiles looking at you, face suddenly going serious. He holds your chin tilting his head back and forth and frowns.

“What’s up dude? You’re super upset,” Oh.  _ Oh he was still your Prom, _ wasn’t he? You changed your mind about being bothered about the others sweat on him and drape yourself over him. He walks you to the couch and you two end up talking the whole evening instead. He’s the best listener you knew, and managed to settle your nerves wonderfully well. Noct seemed to understand that this time was between you two and brought your books from the library before settling in on your opposite side and playing games at an unobtrusive volume.

The situation with the guests in Prom’s bedroom seems funny to you. They are models for the project he’s working on and when they come out to socialize you pride yourself on maintaining more of his attention than they get. You’re surprised though, as they are both beautiful in their own way, but seem unbothered by his lack of attention. Instead, they flirt with each other and disappear before you can get to know them better.

As it starts to get too late, he offers to let you stay the night in the guest room, and you’re tempted to take him up on it. Your bus ride to your apartment would be about forty three minutes and the thought of getting to bed much later sounded horrendous. Especially when you were snuggled up together so nicely on this absurdly comfortable couch. A blanket draped over you feeling safe in his arms.

“I don’t have any clothes though,” you weakly protest, burrowing in closer. Noct perked up at this, finally able to contribute something.

“I might have something, hang on. Alena left some random stuff here last weekend,” he gets up and leaves the room. He quickly retrieves two shirt options, both women’s, and both strangely in your size. Your smile twists at him.

“Is Alena your stage name? These are pretty damn garish” you hold one up, and you realize it would be terribly revealing. “I’m going to try this on for fun. Prommie, I’ll need your opinion,” You left Noct looking awkward and Prompto punching his arm.

Walking back out, a cowboy’s stance and finger gunning from your hips and shimmying your shoulders, you get a different reaction than you anticipated.

Prompto’s eyebrows raise up as he looks for the words to say. Oh shit yes. Whatever this shirt was doing for you, it was doing it with power. Ramuh’s Lighting Cock, he’s never looked at you this way. You feel… Incredibly sexy and it begins to reflect in your pose. After a moment he looks away coughing into his hand.

“That might be a little too much,” he murmurs, looking at you over his clenched fist. A slice of Pizza slides off of Noct’s plate onto the floor drawing your attention to him struggling to pick it up.

“That’s why I have the two finger guns— because this shirt is barely a holster for my,” you gesture over your chest. Noct is just straight up not looking at you his back turned, and Prom was frowning with a flushed face. Fine. This was awkward. You storm away and put on your original top.

“Just wear one of my shirts,” Prompto suggests as you come back more comfortable. Apparently he had gotten up and snagged it already, and you were beginning to wonder what happened to the people that were visiting. You grab it and it smells just right. Realizing you’re being a little weird, you take it to another level and wrap your head in the shirt.

“Mah toof hurts tho bahd,” you pout, holding your cheek and frowning at him. That seems to rekindle dorky congeniality as you have a more restful evening than anticipated.

At about two AM you are woken up by strange sounds. You swear you can very clearly hear the intimate moans of three different voices coming from the wall attached to Prompto’s bedroom. You swallow your jealousy and try to convert it to happiness for him. But he was always saying he’s looking for someone to love— not just a fling… What is going on in his life right now?

Fuck this noise. Literally. Fuck it. You had more shit to worry about in your life, and you had to focus on your future first and foremost. Past that, you were going to don some revenge shirts for him waking you up from very needed rest. You cover your head with the other pillow on the bed and pretend nothing’s happening.

—

Dr Izunia— Ardyn’s class was a brutal one.

It exposed your weakness and made you feel like a garula. Just fumbling, awkward and oversized hands trying to do delicate and simple tasks. The pain of it was how much he would watch you fail at retrieving elemancy from the stones you were presented with in the lab. There was so much behind that smile that you just couldn’t understand.

You couldn’t tell if he was patient, pleased that you were failing, or disappointed. It very well could have been all three.

Noctis, of course, was your lab partner. That motherfucker made it look so incredibly easy. You remembered why he was your rival, and not your ally. His achievements made you work twice as hard, which was a very good thing. Everything came easy to him— school, elemancy, practical application. He kept rubbing your nose in it too, pulling enough energy out of the deposit stones to fill up two different magic flasks. He would show you with this  _ dumb smile on his face _ . Jokes on him, because your glare quickly subdued his excitement while he looked away.

However, there seemed to be something else about your failures. It made sense you couldn’t achieve anything, because ever since the first day, you were struggling. Your ingredients were somehow less fresh within minutes, everything you were creating operated at such an abysmal level of low power. It just was barely worth the waste of the magic flask.

The worst part was it was such a truly incredible rush to extract the elemancy even when you were able to. Electric Elemancy was your favorite, the way it would use your body as a conductor before transferring safely into the flask. You would almost close your eyes as the rush hit its peak— then it would be over.  Less than two seconds. You frowned deeply, looking at what you had managed.

“It’s almost impressive how poorly you’re doing,” came the condescending voice of your instructor, “Perhaps you would do better with some after-class instruction,” the predators smile is back on his face.

“I’m already assisting her with her studies, Professor,” Noctis quickly cut in. He is rewarded for his unnecessary heroism with a flat look from you, and a raised brow form Dr. Izunia. He holds up both of the magic flasks shaking one, then the other.

“It seems you may simply be wasting your good fortune on dead weight, Noctis. She is showing herself to only be average, while you are nearly showing potential to be quite past that,” and suddenly you weren’t in the room with them. You looked down at your hands and the black countertops of the lab desks. You understood the principals so well. How could your application be failing this hard?

You had even researched and purchased some legal coeurl whiskers for the final assignment. Killcast, even with the low probability, would have to be worth something. Your teacher rolled his eyes every time you worked on creating healing magic, which made you feel weird for reasons you can’t even pinpoint.

Past that, the structure of his classes were so loose, you were having a hard time finding your footing. Having everyone sit in a circle around him while he continued to preach outside. It was like he made himself out to be some kind of profit. But the way he looked at you, in the rare times that he did well… The shudder could not be contained at the concept of being a lamb for the slaughter. You were means to an end for him, especially with Noctis constantly at your side. It was that same strange and wicked smirk planted on his face when he watched you attempt to retract the fire element from the stone. You barely retrieved anything, and you squirmed at the weight of it unable to concentrate.

You hated the fact that Noctis volunteering to be your lab partner may end up as the only reason why you pass, but Ardyn seemed to have an incredibly strong bias both for —and against him. It was incredibly weird whiplash, watching someone who was so respected both mock and compliment someone at the same time. It was too familiar to things you’d personally experienced. It was weird to watch him shrink under Izunia’s gaze. It made you strangely upset.

He wasn’t allowed to do that, only you were.

You can’t stop yourself from running your mouth off and you feel like you’re noticing a trend.

Every time you speak up in class, no matter what about, regardless if you’re correct or not, everything you receive as an ingredient, every stone you are meant to pull from, seems more and more difficult to produce magic from.

Even the incredibly simple discipline of working alistor bass bones into a mortar was proving ineffective.

“You just need to focus,” Noctis Lucis whispered at you, as subtlety trading out his full magic flask for yours. You just looked at it, shaking and considering calling him out on it.

Integrity, or cheating? Which one would it be?  _ Fuck.  _ You were already nearing a low B in this class, despite all of your best efforts— and they really were your best efforts.

You know what no. How dare he,  _ how dare he _ even try and compromise your principles. You were going to move forward on your own terms, decide when you would get help, when you  _ needed it _ . He was not in control of you like his family was in control of this fucking city.

After a great moment of pause you shake your head no and reach to take back your flask, Ardyn walking up just as you were doing so. Noctis Lucis seems to catch your instructors wild eyes and grabs your hand in a horrifying display of romanticism, pulling it up to his mouth and kissing it.

“Hands to yourself,  _ dear, _ ” he spoke against your hand in way too confident of an air. A smugness all over him, someone completely different than you’d ever interacted with. Who the  **_fuck_ ** does he think he is? He’d walked right up to the boundaries you had constructed, and took a giant shit on top of them. You wanted to scream but it died in your throat as you watched Ardyn look at the flask on the table.

“Ah, how sweet, and good of you to not have her cheating off you, Noctis,” Izunia chuckles to himself as his posture shifts, one hand disappearing behind his back, the other gesturing with a flourished point, “Because if I catch you doing anything along the lines of dishonestly, I will fail you without a second thought,” he’s looking right at you, and you don’t blame him. You’re still frozen in both rage and fear as Noctis Lucis Caelum brings your hand down, shifting his fingers to lace between yours and you squeeze it as hard as you can. He has successfully broken your attention from Izunia, and now he has the full brunt of your feelings. You’re practicing the stoicism you can’t master and you just stare blankly at him, waiting for him to wince under the pressure of your grasp. He simply squeezes back, a small frown on his face. Because he knows. He knows the truth of what he just did.

There’s no way you’d be able to create the magic flask that was in front of you.  Please don’t let Dr. Izunia pick it up and check the weight. Please.

“Oh my, you could cut this tension with a knife. Try to keep this attraction outside of my class,” Your instructors voice is dark and menacing. You can’t find the intention inside of it and you just shyly look away pulling your hand from The Repulsive Rival and putting your hair behind your ear. You go back to work on pulverizing the bones. To fight your irritation, you re-focus on the one thing that can calm you down. You focus on your next move.

You wanted to experiment with crystallization of the protein, to see if it could have a similar effect as the stronger bones of larger creatures. It should be the same in principle, and there was no reason why it shouldn’t work. It would take a few extra lab hours and it could be an interesting breakthrough if the formations matched at a molecular level, or perhaps had some protein chains that could be synthesized and merged onto the structure into something more potent. Not matter what— It would be good to know. You’d need help though, and you think you know just the person to ask.

Noctis Lucis Caelum leans in to whisper his apology with his hand touching your lower back. You have to brace your hand on the pestle in the mortar to not physically shove him and break the grotesque illusion he created, “Don’t touch me again,” comes out from between your teeth.

He doesn’t speak to you for the rest of class.

—

You open up your phone, barely having to scroll down the few messages in your inbox. A dark haired asshole sending his ninth unread and never-to-be-read message, Cindy wanted to introduce you to her girlfriend, Prompto checking in on you and making sure you’re alright, and finally Ignis Scientia’s number.

You click on it, worrying your lower lip and some excitement overcomes you. Three little dots appear— the telltale sign of an incoming message and you can’t hold back a delighted sound.

**You:** Great minds think alike, huh? I was just about to message you, too!!

You’re surprised at the time gap for his message to arrive. Perhaps you shouldn’t have thrown him off. Maybe you should have started with an apology?

**Ignis Scienteachya:** Indeed? Well. From the tone of your message it seems you’ve gotten over yesterday. I’m relieved.

No, you absolutely hadn’t.

**You:** Of course! Hey— I have a few questions regarding crystallization and I can’t seem to get after hours with you :c Would a phone call be too weird?

**Ignis Scienteachya:** Perhaps. Can we keep it under an hour?

**You:** Really? :(((((

**Ignis Scienteachya:** No— for clarity’s sake: It would not be weird to speak with you over the phone. It’s already late and we both need proper rest.

You press call regardless of his warning.

You are greeted by a suppressed chuckle on the other line, answered on the second ring.

“Good evening,” meets your senses and you’re in his office. You closed your eyes to the lilt of his accent, “What seems to be so pressing?”

Yes. This is the sound of a stoic man smiling. It was exactly what you’d wanted to hear. He was still delighted to chat with you.

“I have some questions regarding crystallization and I was wondering if you knew of anyone who could expedite the process. I want to see if the molecular structure of— oh and of course good evening to you too Professor Scientia—“ he sighs. You lose your train of thought. Nope, the thought is still there, but the sigh bothers you, “Okay, wait, what’s up? I can’t see your face so I don’t know what I’ve done wrong beyond being incredibly intrusive this morning.”

“Oh— It’s nothing,” His voice drops at the end of the word. You over analyze the meaning and decide to pursue.

“Don’t bullshit me. Did my late attendance make you think twice about wanting to help me?” You laid your face flat on your desk with a gentle thud, cold icing your veins.

There’s a moment of pause before a single laugh comes out. It makes you feel warm with hope, “Of course not. I simply had hoped you’d maintain the previous suggestion,” he was being so withholding. You give him the moment to collect his thoughts and it stretches over long before you laugh yourself.

“Holy shit, Ignis. You know I’m going to do whatever it was, spit it out”

“Ah, Yes well—,” He clears his throat, the smile already returning to his tone, “It’s already been accounted for. You were thinking about Crystallization? I’d be delighted to delve further into your thoughts.”

Your conversation ran for much longer than you had intended. Like most discussions with Ignis, it was so engaging and fun that you ended up going over your personally allotted time. You were going to have to end the conversation. But he was saying such nice things. You wanted to revel in it.

“Quite genuinely, it makes me appreciate that I have the opportunity to have you in my class all the more. I suppose I cannot come to expect everyone to come to after hours with an outline prepared, but I don’t think it’s unheard of to anticipate a few questions at the ready,” he was frustrated. You heard a few pans shuffling on the opposite side of the phone, and it made you sit up from your resting position on your bed.

“Mmmhmm,” the sound left you as you rubbed your eyes, “Are you cooking right now?” You didn’t want to change the subject, but you were starting to feel flustered by the compliments and it was best to just shift the topic instead of say something potentially tarnishing. It still seemed to give him pause.

“Ah. So you can hear that then?” There was that gentle laugh again. You were beginning to notice he laughed not only when he was amused. He allowed himself a a low chuckle when he was pleased and to let off embarrassment. “I confess, I had been prepping the dish while we’ve been talking, and it’s gone cold by now. I have started cleaning up. If it’s too loud I can place it on pause for now,” you could tell he was shifting his phone to his other ear by the way his voice got quieter. You wanted to imagine him in a frilly apron with pink rubber gloves.

“Come on Iggy, I’ve kept you for too long already. However, you’re going to have to tell me what you cooked because I’m living off of instant sadness” you stifled a yawn, switching your phone to speaker and resting it on your nightstand to charge.

“Iggy?” Another laugh. You’re not sure which of the three it represented, “I think I’m not against that,” the yawn cannot be stifled and you flop onto your bed rubbing your face into your pillow before turning your head towards your phone as if he was actually in the room, “It’s a simple dish really. I don’t tend to find cooking terribly exciting, but as it is a requirement for life and another chemistry in itself, so why not pursue it to excellence. You should not,” he laughed again, and you joined him feeling delusional in your exhaustion, “be living off of ‘instant sadness’” you imagined him pushing his glasses up, pleased with himself.

“Mmmmn,” you simply reply and he goes quiet in his commentary.

“Are you…” He clears his throat for a moment. “Are you falling asleep on me?”

“Mmmhmm. This has been incredibly lovely, but I’ve been in bed for almost an hour now,” you hear several pans shifts and clatter on his phone line, “no, I was so close, that’s too loud,” you whine and hug your pillow close, “tell me more about your cooking magic,” your voice is a low mumble.

“I should absolutely let you get rest,” his voice had dipped low again. He cleared his throat, the tone returning to normal. “It is too late— I don’t know how I’m still so awake at three am but— I suppose here we are. Rest well, and I will see you tomorrow,” He was lingering on the line, waiting for your response before disconnecting.

“Sleep sweetly, Iggy. Don’t get sick on me. You’ve been clearing your throat a lot and I don’t know if I’d enjoy a substitute,” you laugh a little, keeping your eyes closed.

“I’ll do my best. Sweet dreams,” you were waiting for him to hang up now, too wrapped up in blankets and too comfortable to reach for your phone.

“Ignis,” your voice is tired now, not trained for this long of a conversation. You hear a drawn in breath and finally the sound of nothing.

—

You wake up to your alarm at a time that feels too early and you wanted to throw it across the room for its insolence. Instead you just look at it for a moment as it slowly gets louder and louder. You contemplate pressing snooze but in your mind you know that will do nothing for you or your rest, so you slide out of bed like daemon flan and shut off your alarm.

You have a new message from Prompto asking to get coffee in an hour and you instantly feel way more awake and excited. The smile on your face is way too big and you reflect for a moment.

**You:** only if it’s just us

**PROM-PROM <3: ** Of course dude!

**You:** I’m stupid amped!! (ﾉ ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

**PROM-PROM <3: ** hahahha y do u use thse awfl faces hahahha

**You:** why do you chatspeak?

**You:** (͠≖ ͜ʖ͠≖)

**You:** ヽ(͡◕ ͜ʖ ͡◕)ﾉ 

**You:** 乁(✿ ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)و

**PROM-PROM <3:** stapppp

**You:** why does it

**You:** ε==/╲/( ͡☉ ͜ʖ ͡☉)/\╱\

**You:** bug you?

**PROM-PROM <3:** noooooo!! yyyy r u like thisssss hahahahahaha!  
  


You spay your hair with dry shampoo and grab your token jacket before hesitating.

You. Well. You could try to turn this into something more if you choose carefully. You put on your secret, sexy red lace undergarments with wings that work as the back straps of the bra. Because you’re going to be soaring if he gets to see it. A matching thong because fuck it, let’s rock today. Next, you grab an echo of his fashion. You snag your more professorial fitted jacket. It’s plaid with muted green and grey, and you love it. Touching the leather patches on the elbows, you smile at your intended future. 

A soft, low cut and silky black tank top will be your undershirt, and leggings that go a little up your ass in their tight-fit mold will be your weapon. Honestly, they were ridiculously comfortable. It felt like you weren’t wearing pants at all, so it would work for running around all day in your commander boots. You did the mirror lean test to see if the red would peak through on either your pants or the detailing of lace on the top. The leggings were fine, the top? You’d have to keep an eye out on that during class but beyond that you should be fine.

Donning some makeup and some delicate jewelry, you would arrive two minutes late. That’s fine as Prom knows your coffee order and it would probably be ready as you were walking in.  
  


And of course, it was! You hear your name called out by the barista and Prom in tandem and you just feel warm, confident, and if you’re honest with yourself: totally hot. He came right in and gave you an enormous hug. Pulling back for a moment, he looks your face over and frowns.

“Dude you look like shit. Did you get any sleep at all last night?” Oh. There goes all the wind from your sails.

You mercilessly ruffle his carefully styled hair in revenge as he tries to escape, “Hey fuck you too,” it’s okay though, because you know his concern is from a place of love. You smile at him for a moment too long, “I just stayed up on the phone too late last night, but I got a whopping 3 hours, so I’m good,” you pick up the triple shot ebony with both your hands as you walk to a booth. He’s giving you the weirdest expression and you’re not sure how to respond.

“Who were you talking to until 3am? Am I being replaced?” there’s a playful bit of drama added onto the end of his tone before he takes a sip from his cup. Interesting. You purposefully adjust yourself on your seat to be more alluring and lean your head on the palm of your hand.

“No one could replace you Prom, you know that,” reassurance instead of teasing was the route you decided to go. He lifted his eyebrow in a request for more deets, “I was talking magic into the morning if you must know,” You roll your eyes, “With Ignis, the dude from the art show,” He is gaping at you and you feel self conscious. You look away.

Shifting in his seat and leaning forward while looking around he does his token stage-whisper, “Isn’t he your professor?” and suddenly your face goes red. It wasn’t weird that you talked for so long-- It was nice! You enjoyed it, immensely. Not only that, but you were feeling incredibly settled because you would be dropping off samples for Ignis to send to some colleagues to make into crystal structures for you to analyze in your free time.

Prompto recomposes himself before nodding with a frown, “That’s kind of hot, honestly. I didn’t take you for that kind of a rule breaker. It seems weirdly right that you’d pick up a professor as your first boyfriend.”

“Astrals! There’s nothing weird happening between us, Prom. We just bounce ideas really well off of each other and it made us both too excited to stop talking,” you reflect how nearing the last hour, it had diverted away from discussions of magic, and more into the discussion of personal endeavors and behaviors. He didn’t need to know that. “And I’ve had a boyfriend before. It just wasn’t serious,” you shrugged. He laughed shaking his head.

“Right-- you ‘dated’ someone for something like two weeks. I don’t think that really counts, dude,” You roll your eyes and occupy your hands with the stir stick, “So. Speaking of relationships, Noct told me about what happened,” his face got more serious as he frowned at you. You immediately get defensive in your posture as you cross your arms. No! You were just starting to catch up with him… You didn’t want to talk about  _ Noctis. _ Not right now. Not ever. But the anger you felt-- It just. It just came out like an unstoppable force.

“Oh did he now?” Your tone was a sharp knife of cutting words, “Did he tell you he chose to compromise my integrity without a second of consideration for my wants? He switched magic flasks with me Prom. Not only that, but I got threatened by the teacher that he would fail me if we got caught. Not him, of course, just me! Because of his stupid impulse decisions that I didn’t ask for, I could be failed. I could just fail right out of that required class and mess up all of my future plans. He did that in less than two seconds,” Prompto puts his palms up in supplication to calm you down. It was not working, “Did he tell you that he grabbed my fucking hand without my permission _ again, _ and then he  _ fucking _ kissed it like we were some kind of--” you physically cringe, “Some kind of fucking couple? Like he owned me. Like his family owned my childhood home,” you were slamming your finger into the table punctuating your points. 

He seemed to wince at your outburst and you instantly felt a weird guilt about the accusations. You were still mad at Noctis, but seeing Prom so defeated made your heart hurt.

You look away and instead take a too long of a drink. 

“You realize he’s not doing any of that out of malice right?” he’s messing up his own hair by rubbing the back of his head now. He sighs and rests another arm on the table, choosing to rub his face instead. He looks up at you with some soft desperation, “Like, I get it. What he did totally sucks, but I swear he was only trying to help. Please, dude. He didn’t start that assistance program,” you frown into your cup keeping it close to your mouth. You were uninterested in the truth he was about to give you. You wanted to be justly mad at the Caelum family. All of them, “and I know for a fact he thought he was just trying to help. He’s been stressing out about it ever since it happened,” Here it is, what could have been such a wonderful morning completely ruined.

“You mean since yesterday. Does the golden boy only have to sit with his guilt for one day? Why can’t they ask if people need help? Why can’t he wait for me to ask? It’s not like I don’t know how to! I know my limits, I know what I can’t do,” you’re shaking a little and put the cup down on the counter and put your hands under the table to hide the fact. You just frown at him. “Is this why you wanted to have coffee alone?”

“Dude,” he’s trying to be so soft right now, and it’s fracturing you. You want to remain mad. You felt justified, “I just want you to look at things from both perspectives right now. And I’m worried about you. It’s like every time I see you you’re more stressed and more tired. It’s only a few days into the semester and you’re already nearly pulling all-nighters. You’re not going to make it like this,” he is reaching his hand across the table, and you give in. He was right, about all of it. Again. Even if it was because of Noctis that he was here, you were grateful. You still won’t look at him though. You bite your lower lip as he takes your hand in both of his. It was in your nature to be openly affectionate with one another, and you had your own questions to ask him.

“Well what about you? Dude,” your other hand comes up to join the party as you finally look at him. “I feel like every time I see you, you’re going after someone else. You’re not aiming to shoot a picture, it's more like you’re aiming to shoot your load! I mean, I haven’t seen one of your projects in ages. I miss you. I miss seeing what you’re capable of. You have so much momentum and I don’t want you to lose your passion to pussy, ass or otherwise,” your tone is teasing with a crooked smile, but your words are sincere. His concern for you had warmed you to him again, recognizing that he didn’t deserve your rage. He laughs, retrieving one hand to rub his face, but giving you a reassuring squeeze with another. You retreat both of them back to your coffee, almost finished with your days starting up soon.

  
“It’s been weird dude. People don’t know I was a… Fat kid here. They only know me as I am now and… I can just, approach people and they like me for who I am with no past attached, you know?” you take sips at the same time, “It’s refreshing and once I realized that, well,” he’s so red in the face you feel absolutely charmed, “I don’t know dude,” he sighs. “I’m probably distracted. I think even  _ my _ teacher is flirting with me a little but I can’t tell if that’s just how he is,” his face is so red you’re laughing at him now.

“Ignis isn’t flirting with me,” you correct him a second time.

“You call him  _ Ignis, _ ” he’s activated the charm in his smile and it’s fully utilized on you. “Are you sure you’re not flirting with him? Do you have a class with him today?” W-Why is he looking at you like that. This once over doesn’t feel bad but you suddenly feel shy. An unwarranted giggle comes out of you after he untangled all the knots of your feelings earlier.

“I mean, yeah of course dude. It’s the middle of the week,” what is he getting at. Oh god. No. You suddenly cover your cleavage that you had meant to be for him in the first place.

“Yeah, totally not flirting with him. At all,” he rolls his eyes and finishes his cup. “It’s got Noct so je--” he slams his cup down as if to hide his words, “I got you a present!” He wanted you to be distracted, and you acquiesced.

“Why?” a common question between you two, he shoves a bag at you from across the table. It’s a… strangely nice messenger bag. It’s too nice. Your smile becomes stiff. “Did you pick this out?” He’ll understand what your tone means, you can be sure of it. You can be sure of it because he’s squirming in his seat.

“Dude, for real, he’s sorry. But I picked it out! I know what you like dude. He kept picking out backpacks, but I had your--heh--back,” his smile breaks slightly. He wants you to accept it and you just sigh and open it up. You smell the leather and it’s  _ so nice _ . It’s exactly to your taste and you glare at him for a moment too long before breaking into a smile.

“Fine. I do really like it,” you are reveling in the buttery texture of the black material and the well made strap.

“Please think about what I said. Just-- Both perspectives okay? And take better care of yourself. If you don’t I’m kidnapping you and you’re going to have to live with  _ both _ of us,” you laugh, feeling filled up on the proof that he loves you, too.

“Can we make this a normal thing? Morning coffees?” You are pure doe eyes. He agrees with more delight than you expected. The missing of each other had been mutual.

You transferred all your books into the bag, and it was perfect.

Noct was still an asshole though.

—

Noct was giving you space today, despite the fact that it was another lab day. You had an unopened ebony on your seat right when you walked in, as he didn’t do his usual escort service-- wait wrong phrasing. His uh. His waiting and then guiding. You cracked open the Ebony, no hello’s as usual, and then after your first refreshing sip, you hit him in the back with an open palm as hard as you can.

He looks at you shocked, but then seems to accept the bro-tastic gesture. He’s wondering if he’s forgiven. You very blatantly place the bag in the middle of you two like a barrier wall.

“Thank you. For the Ebony, that is,” That’s all he’s getting out of you today. He smiles a little as he looks down. Then he looks at you a second time tracing your outfit in a speedy sweep and he seems to be focusing completely on his project in the next moment. You wonder if he’s contemplating how you could hit with such strength. Yeah, suck it. You had strong arms. From carrying him in lab ohhhh~! Astrals, if only that was true. Whatever, you could lie to yourself for a moment.

He shifts his focus completely to retrieving elemancy. You sigh, prepping yourself in anticipation of the sensation.

You’d gotten a little better! There seemed to be so much cold flowing through your veins that you fought a chill. The thrill and rush of this-- It was incredible. And, it’s suddenly over.

Fuck.

You  _ were _ getting better though. According to the measurements on the side you got to twenty two today.  _ Nice _ . That’s passable. Gross. Passable. When did that become something you were okay with? You wanted to excel, but thankfully your concepts would help that at least.

Here comes Dr. Izunia, making his usual rounds. You were ready to come last in attention but today felt weird.

You felt meek and pinned in your seat under his gaze and you couldn’t pinpoint why. It didn’t help that Noct was incredibly tense next to you as well, which just fed you more anxiety.   
  
You realized you weren’t looking at Ardyn after that first moment of eye contact until you notice his hands on the table. Bracing yourself, you look up and he’s leaning slightly towards you.

“You’re almost doing better,” You could smell the breakfast and coffee on his breath. You wanted to crawl away and hide under the table.

“Thank you,” is all that comes out of you. Those seem to be the only words you know today.

He’s looking at you with such calculation that you’re frozen. You consider for a moment if this could be a side effect of the retrieval but, it doesn’t seem so.

He leans back with what seems to be extra effort and moves on, his body teetering back before catching his ballance. You notice him looming around your work area for the rest of the day and any satisfaction you had disappears.

—

You managed to get out of lab on time with great ease, partially from Noct cleaning up with you in double time.

“He’s disgusting,” he breaths out as soon as you two are standing on the bus together. You let this comment rest in the air, uncertain of where exactly it was coming from. 

—

You got there early enough that you get your seat back. You’re fucking delighted and you want to laugh, because you’re so ready. When Ignis— Wait, switch back it’s class time now, when Professor Scientia walks through the door, you hit him with a bright smile. You watch him take in a deep breath, his eyebrows raising slightly in an expression you recognized as pleased.

Yeah. Today was going to be a good day despite your morning.

He approaches you at your steat, looking down at you while you open your body posture up to him. He takes an unexpected sip from an ebony can before he greets you.

“Good afternoon. It’s a pleasure to see you in your rightful place,” his tone is playful, but his expression reads as though he’s keeping his stoicism on lockdown. Thankfully, his relaxed body posture is something you can read into. He seems more confident today, his shoulders are pulled back as he leads from his hips. You were not going to argue against— no hold on brain. Back that shit up. You’re not going to care about his new ensemble or the small details on his figure. You respected this man in front of you not only for his accomplishments, but for what he could bring out in you.

“I’m so happy to be here. I missed our game of verbal tag,” you laugh a bit, leaning on your hand as you look up at him. The smallest smile forms on his face and it reminds you of your phone call, “Right!” You quickly bend to the side, opening up your new bag and pull out a small packet of white dust for him.

Ignis eyes it incredibly suspiciously.

“The Alistair bass bones?” His incredulousness is making you nervous. He puts a gloved hand up to his mouth as his brows fall together. One chuckle, then a second comes from him as he tries to hide it.

“This... is not exactly how you can analyze a protein,” he takes the bag from you regardless, “You have to purify it down to the molecular form and then we can begin to consider the crystal makeup. However, you have my interest piqued so perhaps I can have one of my undergraduates look into this in your stead,” he places the packet into his briefcase with deft hands.

“No wait, I wanted to learn how to extract the protein! I was reading up on vapor analysis and—“ this was going all wrong. You wanted the excuse to be in a proper lab environment, not one that was constantly in a state of stress. Some practice before you joined Dr. Nox Fleuret.

“Chances are this would be better suited to Microdialysis or free-interface diffusion techniques. You’ll also need to take into consideration the pH-“

“Temperature and Ionic strength! I remember everything you say to me, it doesn’t get lost on your breath,” your expression is pleading. This isn’t fair. You wanted to be a larger part of this. He lets out a soft sigh looking down at you.

“You’d mentioned your class schedule to me. I dare say, I do not think it would be responsible of me to monopolize your time like that,” he adjusts the glasses on his face shaking his head, “This is a brilliant idea and it should be pursued. However, I do not think you realize how incredibly time consuming attempting to make a crystal construct can be. Especially the first time. So, should you care to, I can hold off on it until you have the opportunity to execute it in my laboratory. However, I do not see that happening this semester,” you wished he didn’t put the small pouch away so you could rip it back from him. Instead you just furrow your brows at him and try not to pout. It’s not working, but you’re trying. He looks like he’s about to put his hand on your shoulder when Noct clears his throat out of nowhere and the hand goes into his pocket instead.

“Let’s discuss this further another time,” this was his placating tone and you just sigh.  The rest of the students are flowing into the classroom and the girl from the other day looks insulted at you, sitting on Noct’s opposite side.

You take pleasure in showing her up at every opportunity.

You’re leaning over more than normal taking your notes diligently and you keep feeling Noctis side-eyeing you. If he wanted to borrow your notes, he could just ask. He certainly wasn’t taking any for himself. It wasn’t even that hot in here, why was his face so red?

Ignis himself seemed to be avoiding looking at you for quite a bit of the class, and every time he did he cleared his throat. What on earth was going on right now? You didn’t think wanting to learn about the process of Crystallization would be so contentious. He keeps putting his hand in his pocket and turning around to face the blackboard. It was so unlike him, usually neutral in his gesticulation he sometimes used his hand to snap in excitement when someone proved they were listening. 

Class ends with an easy assignment you plan to pour your heart into.

—

“I have a weird request,” Noct asks shuffling slightly before looking up at you. You’re waiting to hear his plea and apparently he needs you to acknowledge him first.

“Okay.”

“Would you be willing to. I mean. I was wondering if you would go over some of TE02 notes, and I could teach you some things about APEA. You know. So we both pass and do well. Maybe over some coffee or at my place?” Why was he suddenly sweating? This was such an easy question.

“I figured you’d need my notes after today. Also for Ifrit’s sake, go get your thyroid checked Noct, you’re always overheating,” you go to touch his face and he’s burning up, “Don’t fucking get me sick dude,” you poke his shoulder with your pointer finger.

He laughs a little bit touching the back of his head before letting it drop and say to his side, “Is that a yes then?” He’s wearing such a crooked grin that you’re not sure what to make of it.

“Yeah of course. It makes sense. I need the damn help in Dr. Fuckoff’s class anyway,” you wave your hand over your shoulder already making your way to your next class.

“So, Moogle Cafe?” He calls out to you.

“See you at Seven,” you call back holding up a peace sign without turning around.

—

So it turns out, the studying helped. Shit, morning coffees with Prompto helped your mood too. Over the past few weeks, you were showing rapid growth in APEA. It became a sort of game to disappoint your instructor every time he had to begrudgingly give you an A. And he never said  _ shit  _ about it. But it was not enough.

How is this fucking happening in this stupid fucking class?

You got your bullshite assignment back from Ardyn and it’s almost illegible because it is covered in so much red. You wanted to rip it up, none of this was accurate. You literally sighted  _ some of his papers _ in what you wrote and he was marking it as wrong.

What the fuck dude?

What the actual fuck?

You grab the paper you helped Noctis write and rip it out of his hands, flipping to the final page. ‘I see you’re living up the family name, Noct. You should be proud.’ With a giant A scribbled across it. You wanted to scream.

He did grabbed your paper and looked just as furious as you were. Under-lining several things that were blatantly misinterpreted on purpose, “I don’t understand, you’re literally quoting him here,” he smacks the paper with the back of his hand.

You were a flaming bomb of righteous fury.

“If anyone wants to discuss their paper with me, please do so during the assigned hours,” it’s a condescending and malicious grin that he gives specifically to you. He had to be full of daemon blood for light to never reach his eyes.

You’ve never shoved something so unceremoniously into your bag. You were going to have to go to after hours with this fucking prick. Who did he think he was? A fucking F.

**A fucking F.**

If you didn’t get this fixed in the next four days, your grade was going to register as a B- and you’d have to drop this required class if you got another. You were shaking as the rage subsided into something too familiar.

You sucked in the breath and fought back tears. You had been trying so hard. This was blatantly an attempt to lower your standing in his class. This was personal for a reason you didn’t understand and you hated it. You hated feeling like a victim.

Noct made a move to gently pat your back and it made you feel more fragile. You gently knocked his hand away, shaking your head no. Kindness right now would break you.

The lecture was held outside today, and you found yourself drawn to the beautiful surroundings rather than the lecturers words, sitting on the ground in defeat. You wanted to ignore how much his other students came across as deeply in love with him.

Looking at the after hours, every segment was taken beyond the one that was right after this class. You made Noct promise to save your seat. He wanted to be in the room with you like some kind of weirdo, but you could defend yourself. You knew this was unjust.

You took a deep breath after parting ways, opening the door to his office.

—

It was. Well. It was an office alright. Papers stacked high around him like some kind of hoarders wet dream, he was as disorganized and chaotic as you imagined. Just being inside the room made you stressed. 

It felt like home. The only thing missing was the stale lingering smell of alcohol and a crying child. You wouldn’t be surprised if he listened to childen crying while he masturbated, honestly.

“Ah, I was expecting you,” he gestures to the seat in front of him, “come in, let’s…  _ talk,” _ the hair on the back of your neck was sticking straight up. Maybe you should have let Noct stay with you.

“I want to talk about this injustice,” you throw the paper down in front of him. It almost gets lost in the mess.

“Oh yes, that’s just too bad isn’t it? And you were doing so well too. Working so hard with your little Noctie-wocktie,” it’s a dark laugh that leaves him in his mockery.

You’d stick to pure logos for this discussion, abandoning ethos and pathos, as neither would serve you well, “I would like to present the areas that I know were misrepresented and misinterpreted,” to point to the first page, refusing to sit down. He’s smiling at you, and you hated it.

“You know, I heard about your little deal with our dear Cor,” this is a threat. Red fucking alert, this is a threat.

“I don’t see how that correlates to the grade you gave me,” deflect, defend. Refocus to the task at hand.

“Well. Your grade can still be changed... should you desire to put me between your lips instead of the sass you’re giving in class. In fact, I rather like that backtalk,” Ardyn’s smile was lifeless. The only bit of it that was hitting his eyes was malicious intent and you realized, in that moment, he was asking you to compromise your integrity. He was willing to place your happiness behind his own and crush it for a moment of release.

You’ve never truly hated anyone before this moment.

Red was tunneling in your vision as your heart rate increased too high. He’d gotten up from behind his desk and was approaching you.

Defend. Retreat. Flight response over fight— don’t fucking hit him. Don’t give them an excuse to expel you.

“I would rather be gutted by a spiralcorn, Sir,” the words came unbidden from you as you reach to pick up your paper. He snatches it from you holding it just our your grasp like some kind of child’s play. Just leave without it.

He was going to figure out how to fail you anyway.

“I’m surprised at you,” he is attempting to corner you. You stumbled over nothing, or let’s be real here, probably something. You keep your mind focused on where the door handle is, taking steps backwards not showing your flank to the predator, “the outfits you’ve been wearing recently. Well, to say the least, you are basically begging for my attention,” he looks like he’s about to touch you but instead caresses your face with your non-failing F of a paper.

You reach up and rip it out of his hands, “Nothing I do, nothing I wear, or any actions I convey gives you any right to” you’re not going to fucking cry, “treat someone like this,” you’re shaking, and you grasp the door handle.

You open it, and it unfortunately swings inward. His hand goes above your shoulder and it shuts it, the door handle gently sliding out of your fingers.

Is this how it’s going to be? Are you going to be… The words flood your mind at the potential headlines that could be portrayed. Shit, who were you kidding there wouldn't be a headline. He knew what he was doing, he hadn't physically touched you yet. He was waiting on your consent first. Some plea to change your grade at any means possible. You had to come across that way, with the deal with the dean, everything that had happened in class. Almost willing to cheat to make it happen—

“I’m joking of course, I don’t want you leaving with any wrong ideas now do I?” What the fuck. What the actual FUCK, “but your grade stands— do try harder next time. Unless of course, you’re just a disappointment,” he removes his hand from the door, and returns to sit behind his desk.

You stare at him, shocked. This was absolutely not a joke, it simply didn’t go as he had planned it to.

“Well, are you just going to stare at me all day or are you going to move along?” His hand threatened his top button, and you spin your way out of the room so quickly you’re already thirty feet away from the door before you hear it close.

—

**Ignis Scienteachya:** I am leaving it unlocked.

This is the message that flashes on your watch as you walk through the door exactly as class was starting. You look up to see Ignis just setting his phone down, both eyebrows raised at your probably flushed complexion. You shamefully break eye contact with him looking to the front row to see— yes. Noctis had managed to reserve your seat.

You sit down, taking off your jacket and hearing Dr. Izunia’s words echo in your ears.

_ Basically begging for attention _ .

You weren’t. Your bare shoulders and exposed clavicles were not of anyone else’s concern but your own. Fuck you’re still incredibly flustered.

You run your fingers through your hair several times as Ignis looks like he wants to say something to you, but you’re just frowning with furrowed brows.

You can’t keep eye contact with anyone. You just want to shower.

“Did it go alright?” Noct whispers. You simply shake your head feeling mute.

The lecture hasn’t quite started and you hear Ignis—fuck. Professor Scientia put down his phone.

**Ignis Scienteachya:** I would like to speak with you soon, in person if we can.

This does nothing for you. You’re all knots and stress and the text reads so final. Did he know about your failed paper already?

**You:** Okay. Time and place, I’ll be there.

Noct gives you a suspect look when the phone on his desk vibrates after you put yours away. He doesn’t need to know. Especially if Prom never told him.

You receive your second excruciating disappointment of the day. You’re looking down at it, gentle cursive scrawled across the final page of the paper and it goes completely blurry. You can’t blink it away, because if you do, you’ll show your feelings in wet drops across the page. 

“ _ Overall, a solid theory. However, I am surprised to write that there is quite a bit to be improved upon. I look forward to engaging these topics further. B+” _

This one nearly hurt more, because this grade was earned. You fold the paper in half and stow it away respectfully.

Noctis goes to show you the A you helped him earn with delight written across his face, and it makes you hate him for it.

—

Everything about today feels off. Ignis seemed incredibly distracted for most of his lecture, his tone cutting sharp at random intervals, and you just can’t bring yourself to engage. You even hear the space he leaves for you, and random classmates fill the void. The good news was they were learning, as there were fewer incorrect answers this time.

He keeps losing his focus, and you can hear it in the tone of his voice, his words drifting off, the clearing of his throat. When you do look up, his back is either turned or he stops mid-sentence at your eye contact before suddenly moving forward with a soft shake of his head. It was good that you would be talking soon— you had learned to care about him past the professorial light, and your phone calls kept falling on weekends. Though lasting for hours, they never quite satisfied like the after hours meetings could, where you could read his reactions while you two spoke. He’d commented several times that he felt much the same.

Professor Crowe is a beast today— and you’re not sure why. But honestly, it’s kind of amazing to see her fury thrown down on some of the students. It was an easy class to ace.

Dr. Sania— god you loved that woman so much, had you feeling amazing before the end of the day. She was so excited about what you’d turned in, it became the focus of the class lecture. You were eating up the jealousy surrounding you, some from upperclassmen even. Haha, suck it. You kicked ass at the basics.

But if that was so true, why did Ignis give you a B+?

—

He greets you with a hug, and you feel surprised by it. Not so much that it was unwelcome, but by the extended length of it and the solidness of the hold. It completely threw you off your game.

“I was under the impression you were in need of that today,” he comments, adjusting his glasses. You smile up at him nodding and letting a small laugh escape. Your whole body felt exhausted, but an 8pm meeting at a diner after all of your classes and your short study hour with Noctis, it just seemed right, “Shall we?” He gestures to a booth and moves to sit across from you.

It’s not the most exciting place to meet, a small chain-establishment. But the burgers were consistently good, the salmon better, and you were starving. Good old Kenny Crow, he sure knew what he was doing.

“So, what’s going on?” He laced his fingers in front of his face, giving you his compete attention. You’d nearly forgotten in how much you reveled in it, but you find yourself remembering the disappointing reason you’re here.

“I’m not sure,” you pull the paper out of the folder, running your thumb across the backside of it to unpress the seam, “Honestly I was hoping you could just tell me? I genuinely put in my best effort on this,” you let your hand push up against the side of your hair, scrunching it up and making a mess of yourself as you smile weakly at him across the table. You had so little fight left in you today.

He frowns at you as the waitress offers him coffee that he accepts. You do much the same, placing your dinner order. This seems to make him re-asses, and he places one too, ordering a shake on top of it all.

“You know, this has never been how our discussions have gone,” he takes a sip, analyzing you over his cup with a serious expression. You feel so small. “Traditionally, you come storming at me with a hundred different ideas, however,” You close your eyes, bracing for his disappointment, “However,” he repeats and you open your eyes to look at him and you read his concern, “recently you’ve come across as more distracted. It’s always been a flaw in your writing, and I wanted to talk about that with you” his voice is sweeter as he sets his cup down. His shoulders are leaning in towards you and he’s starting to look like he doesn’t want to have this conversation. Damn it, no. Please, don’t approach with kit gloves. Please be angry or disappointed, something you could lean against. Don’t let him be so empathetic.

“I think I understand what you’re getting at,” you’re not looking at him again as you flip to the third page, the bracketed paragraph. Astrals, it was an entire paragraph. Your hand points to it in a defeated slump. “I mean here—“ your voice cracks. You keep hearing Dr. Izunia’s voice echoing in your head.

_ Unless of course, you’re just a disappointment. _

You brace your head in both of your hands. Shit, you didn’t want to start crying. Not right here. Not right now. You shouldn’t be letting these thoughts worm their way into your confidence.

“I don’t know what I could have done,” the dam is broken, “I don’t know how to do any better,” shit you’re fucking crying. You feel the seat shift next to you as a weight pulls you to the side. He’s wrapping his arms around you and you cry into his shoulder, sleep deprived and emotionally ragged.

“You really need to put less credo on an A, it was nearly there,” his voice seems worried as one of his hands holds your head. You muffle the sound as you grab the lapels of his jacket, “I only want to see you excel in the same way you do when we talk,” you shake your head no pulling away from him. You have to re-adjust your shirt for what feels like the thousandth time that day in an attempt to cover up.

“I trust you,” you comment, rubbing your eyes with your palms. You see the black makeup pulled away, “It doesn’t have to do with what you’re saying, I know I always have room to improve,” you lean to your side, and his hand is making comforting strokes up and down your back. It’s helping to re-center you and you start to wonder why you always push this kind of affection away.

You pull out your failing grade, “I want you to challenge me, Ignis,” you look at him, so much closer in this moment that you can map the constellations of his beauty marks, “But I don’t know how to rise to your request,” you shift the paper in front of him, “When I can barely seem to move forward in other areas.”

His expression goes cold and serious as he looks down at your paper. “Izunia, then,” this. This was a slightly scary side of him and you suddenly wish he was on the other side of the table.

The waitress comes over with the shake in hand, and he pushes it towards you as he begins reading over your writing. You feel confused.

“It’s for you,” he cuts, turning the page. “Noctis warned me that you may be late to class as soon as he arrived, saying you had after-hours with a different instructor. He didn’t mention which one it was, but I had an assumption and I believe I’m seeing things more clearly right now,” there’s a knit in his brow as he doesn’t take his eyes off your paper.

He looks at you with an unchanged expression, stopping on the second page, “I’m surprised you're not furious. Almost all of these claims towards your failings are erroneous,” you have to remind yourself that he’s not mad at you, he’s mad for you, and you occupy yourself by sipping what was apparently your milkshake.

He softens a little at your fear. His hand reaching up towards you before he shakes his head and moves back to his side of the table, taking the paper with him. He finishes it after your respective dinners arrive and he’s seething by the end of it. For some reason, it makes you feel closer to him.

“You have nothing to be disappointed in with this, do you understand?” You  _ don’t _ understand why he’s being so sharp in his tone, but it’s lifting you up. It’s just what you needed.

“Thank you,” the words spill out of you with more confidence than you had intended, but his irritation on your behalf was life-giving.

“Allow me to correct myself— you’re showing the same tendencies in this paper as you have in others. This is the second semester and potentially one of the last classes you will have with me,” he swallows at that thought, shaking his head as if to refocus, “You asked me to challenge you, and I am going to do just that. Reduce your verbosity, reign in your focus. Sleep more. Eat right— let yourself succeed at the goals you’re aiming for,” this pep talk was working and you were nodding along with his words. He flourishes the paper you wrote for him and points to the paragraph, “Tighten up, this is unacceptable from you. I know you’re better than this, and I believe that you are. I also need you to show me that you believe that too,” You’re smiling at him now, knit brows mirroring his own but you’re fucking smiling at the faith he has restored in you. He reaches his hand across the table palm up in request.

“I won’t fucking let you down, not again,” You reach across and take it. He gives your hand a tight squeeze before it relaxes, but he doesn’t pull it away.

“You never have. Let’s discuss his unusual hypothesis you presented. Killcast as your focus is strange for you, but I’m interested in hearing where it stemmed from,” you hold his hand for the remainder of the evening. It weirdly makes you feel strong and focused.

Nearing the end of your talk, the congenial atmosphere has fully returned and looks like he’s fighting something.

“Spit it out,” you say with a crooked grin. You’re both on your third cup of coffee, finished plates pushed off to the side. Pink dusts his cheeks and he breaks what has been a rock of constant contact between you.

“I want to ask if Izunia came onto you. It’s not a well kept secret that he’s… Been forward before,” you immediately cross your arms. The need to shower returns to you as you close your eyes hard and shake your head. This was not something you wanted to talk about. This wasn’t something you wanted to talk about with anyone.

“I was simply failed,” you lie. The look he’s giving you tells you he knows you’re lying.

“Did his behavior towards you change in relation to your change to a less professional appearance?” Holy shit, did he have to be so awkward? At least he had the decency to look embarrassed to have noticed at all.

“What the fuck does that mean?” You want him to say it. That you deserved to be pressured into a blow-job by an ego-maniac that believed he could fuck young college students.

“I’m not-“ he sighs, “I’m merely suggesting that returning to your more professional look may be the right route to go in your future endeavors,” he’s not fucking looking at you and his ears— holy shit his ears go super red when he’s flustered.

“You know what? Fuck you too,” you’re nodding over your crossed arms, baffled at his accusation, “The way I dress has no relation to how I should be treated in any fashion. I have a right to express myself, same as you do,  _ Daddy _ ,” you’re so mad. He lifted up your confidence all night and now he wants to critique your appearance at the end.

You’re already shuffling through your bag to pick out the cash for your meal while he’s reaching out his hand in offering for yours again, “that’s not what I’m saying here,” he’s struggling to find his words and you simply shove the cash in his open hand.

“Thanks for letting me buy my own dinner,” you stand up, done with this entire situation. You begin to walk away before turning back and pointing an accusatory finger at him, “and if you think I’ve been even slightly hot over the past few weeks, I’ll fucking show you what I can really do. I accept both challenges you’ve laid on me tonight,” he’s sitting up stiff, mouth slightly open as he closes his hand around the money you placed in it.

“Thank Titan,” you hear the waitress breath out, the check having been on your table for over two hours. You turn, wanting to give her the finger but there’s a chance you’ve kept her longer than her shift was supposed to go so your shaking arm transitions from a point to a thumbs up.

You storm out, battle plan at the ready.  
  


Shit, was this a mistake? He held your future in your hands. Neah. He’d forgive you. Come on, the bastard practically adored you.

—

You wore a baggy sweater over your real outfit that day, unwilling to allow yourself to fall under Izunia’s gaze. Even Prom didn’t get to witness it, asking about what you were hiding. There’s a weird tension in the class, but your little secret made you feel empowered. You had styled your hair, and done your makeup exactly right. Nothing was fucking getting under your skin today. You were a powerful messenger of the Astrals, here to fuck shit up.

You even got some rest over the weekend by not answering Ignis’s phone call. That one was actually tough, but when you didn’t answer, he didn’t try again. Bullet dodged.

As soon as you left the classroom with Noct at your side, you removed the sweater, folding it as you walked and placing it inside a front pocket of your bag. He nearly stopped walking.

“Why?” Was the only word he could get out of his mouth and you just smiled at him, pulling out a compact and putting on a slightly daring color. You knew red was your color, but this deep burgundy wine was just what you were looking for.

The shirt wasn’t overtly sexual. It did, however, have a window cut out in the front that held your girls at attention. The fabric was velvet and everything about it said ‘reach out and touch me.’ It was loose around your waist, so you picked out a skirt to show off your ass that was slightly too short and conforming. Everything about this ensemble was meant to show off your assets with a vengeance. While you were on the bus, you switched from your flats to more comfortable platforms. Damn this bag had so many pockets. You loved Prom for it.

Already showing wear from the heat, Noct asked his question again, this time sounding more desperate.

“I have a point to prove,” and you gave him just the right level of wicked in your grin. He assessed you for what had to be the ninth time and you shrugged with a smile on your face, “I know. I clean up nice,” and you vogue slightly.

“Yeah,” comes broken from him, the only word out of him before he looks away from you, unable to maintain any more conversation.

When you enter the building, he dodges in an opposite direction, “What’s up, Noct? Class is this way,” and he’s just keeps walking away.

“I need a minute,” he calls over his shoulder, looking at you one more time and opening the men’s bathroom door. Damn, he must have eaten something strange.

It didn’t matter, you were feeling great this morning. Wait— Is that grace itself walking out of Ignis’s classroom door? Oh gods you shouldn’t be wearing this outfit. Maybe he won’t notice you if you turn back now.

And suddenly, a very angry woman beelined her way towards you. Wait, what’s going on here? She is walking right up to you and— Did she just slap you across the face?? What the FUCK.

“How dare you? We’ve been together for like, five months and he just keeps talking about you, spending all of his time with you… You Whore!” you’re clutching your cheek as two people you absolutely don’t want to see are witnesses to this bizarre and unwarranted altercation.

“Excuse me? I have no idea what you’re talking about,” You look directly at Dr. Nox Fleuret with Ignis at his side pause outside of his classroom. He looks deeply unimpressed, putting his arm in front of Ignis’s body to cut him off from interfering. 

“Noctis is  _ my _ boyfriend Okay?” She makes an attempt to shove you and you dodge, causing her to fall forward, “He’s  _ mine _ not yours! I bet your slutty mouth can’t do half the things I do for him!” Her hands are forming fists and you hold yours up in defense.

“Listen, what the fuck. This isn’t even a thing right now. I am not, and have never been interested in your boyfriend. This sounds more like a personal issue you need to have a conversation about,” she wants to take a swing at you. Diffuse this fucking bomb before it explodes, “I am not the issue in your relationship, and if I know anything about the guy, communication probably is. If you’ve been with him so long, he needs to be your Partner, not just something you claim. You don’t get to complete each other, you become better versions of yourself by being with them. You have to have open and honest discussions with him about how you’re fucking feeling so you don’t slap random women in hallways that  _ don’t even know why you’re mad _ ,” good, you managed to not yell at her. But now she’s crying.

“She’s not wrong,” you hear your happy place speak up. You look at him and a smile forms on your face, and you nod. He furrows his brow and gives you a completely desexualized once over before turning to Ignis. “Nothing you say to me will convince me this relationship is anything beyond sexual,” and that’s all he says before he just. Walks. Away.

Now you’re standing in a hallway, mortified, even  _ more confused _ , next to a sobbing woman while Ignis just stares at you, mouth open in shock at everything that happened in less than five minutes.

Oh great, Noctis fucking Lucis fucking Caelum is back. You shove him at her, “Solve this,” while Ignis walks towards you changing his mind with tightly shut eyes and re-enters his class with you following close behind.

—

You have the benefit of being a alone with him for probably the next two minutes while he turns around and inspects your face, “Are you quite alright?” When he touches your cheek you wince and suck in air. However, their something oddly content to him. He must have thought the display was funny.

“Did she leave a mark? It feels like she left a mark,” and suddenly your face is cooling off. You close your eyes at the sensation, “how can you?” Your voice is quieter than it means to be.

“Elemancy can be used in many ways, even certain trinkets can be imbued with it to be used in emergency situations. Practical application, as it were,” you’re so enjoying the sensation you simply hum in response keeping your head tilted up and eyes closed. You don’t realize how quiet the two of you have become. His thumb gently touches your lower lip and you feel like you understand his gloves just a little better as electricity flows through you taking in a gentle breath. But wait, his gloves don’t have covers on the thumbs.

You open your eyes looking at him and he blinks twice with his head close to yours for inspection. His expression unchanging from neutral seriousness before he spins on his heel and walks back to his desk. The door opens again and you hear the argument in the hallway. The woman who wants your place looks from you to the chair you both covet.

No. You’re not contesting your seat with this woman. You instantly make strides to get to it, just a few in front of her and you sit down. You were celebrating small victories today.

You smile up at Ignis wanting to share your glory but he is distracted, his thumb now playing with his own mouth before he clears his throat after looking at you and then away. 

You pull out your phone wanting to send some taunting text messages. Probably from adrenaline of  _ getting slapped, _ you were, well, feeling terribly sassy. You wanted to prove that your outfit had nothing to do with what you could contribute to a conversation.

**You:** Am I living up to your second challenge?

You watch him pull his phone from his pocket, his hand covering his mouth before looking at you out of the corner of his eye. You pose slightly in your chair and he sets it down, abandoned on his desk. His face hadn’t quite cleared of the light flush it held earlier, and suddenly you were concerned for his well being. He better not be getting fucking sick.

Before the end of the lecture, he was sitting in a chair, writing less on the chalkboard and having more of an open discussion with the class. The color hadn’t left his face throughout the whole thing, and he was letting his students talk for more than normal. Okay, you were joining them in the classroom debates and it was fantastic, you kind of loved it. But you were worried.

He ended with his TA handing out the assignment for next week, and you walked right up to him after class.

You put your hand on his cheek to check his temperature, feeling no-self consciousness in the open affection. He looked at you with blown pupils and you’re convinced the man needed to go home.

“Dr. Scientia, I asked you not to get sick on me,” you frown at him, your hands now doing the same job his glove did earlier. It was his turn to close his eyes at your touch.

Having to clear his throat before speaking, “I’m not unwell,” comes out of him, “Or perhaps I am. Thank you for your concern,” he allows the smallest smile at you, his hand reaching up to touch yours when Noctis Lucis Caelum interrupts your moment.

“Shouldn’t you be headed to Accelerated Calculus?” Augh, he’s right. You turn to make your way out of the classroom.

“Please, take care of yourself okay?” You comment, and he breaks into a real smile. Standing with his briefcase in front of him, you know the smile stems from the complement of his concern to you. You pull your sweater out and cover up as you walk through the door.

—

“Listen to me, Ravus,” he is so frustrated in that moment, he physically slams the paper onto my desk, “Read this. Don’t just throw it out or mark up the paper with vague detailing like you did the last one. She heard what I said and she accelerated way past herself this time,” Ignis’s jaw had to be starting to ache from overworking it.

“I can hardly believe you,” are the true words that come out of my mouth. I refuse to bend to his overreaction and remain calm. I had to approach this delicately. He was blatantly in love with her, the way he overstepped his position in order to get me to notice her. He was finally starting to behave like he acknowledged it himself. It was a true relief, indeed.

Little did he realize that Dr. Sania had also been singing her praises but that wasn’t something I particularly wanted to bring up. I am not here to bring him a beacon of hope when I don’t know if it is deserved. Her praises were randomly brought up during the weekly paper discussion, so affectionately called ‘Whine and Cheese’ night. If she wanted the girl for her lab, so be it. She too was a world renown scholar and would be a feather in the young miss’s cap.

Ignis was running his fingers through his styled hair and ruining it completely. It was rare to see this much passion from him, “Don’t you dare stifle her chances because of some ridiculous preconceived bias,” he crosses his arms at me and I study him. He’s regaining his sense of self now that I am giving him my attention. 

“Ignis. There will be other students you will feel this passionately about as well. She is not a lonely star to place your wishes upon. I look at your inexperience and wonder if you’re—“ He cuts me off. It is not the first time he’s done something so unprofessional in regard to the subject at hand.

“She is absolutely set apart. I have been constantly pushing her, and each time she raises herself to the challenge. She has made such enormous strides, it would be a waste of her mind if you don’t at least consider her,” he looks desperate for the first time in all my years of knowing him.

“You no longer argue against the fact that you hold her to different standards. How can I be so certain you’re judgement isn’t clouded? I had to physically stop you from intervening in something we normally would have walked away from,” I take the paper up in my hands regardless of his commentary. He had to know my curiosity was peaked ages ago at her question. I just needed to be absolutely certain that there would be nothing that would blur that line. I will not be tarnished again.

“She deserves it,” his voice is softer and you watch the deep well of his affection overflow, “You asked me for replicates, and here’s proof of her improvements and acceleration. It’s been happening all semester— and the one before too. Well, with one exception, but I believe she is being harassed by Ardyn and it affected her,” This last comment. This catches my attention more than anything else. I need to reflect on it.

“Fine. Allow me to read this in peace, then,” He closes his eyes in relief, his entire body relaxing to neutral after the altercation. I dismiss him. He has never been anything beyond respectful for the past 10 years. You suppose you can give him the break. He was still so young, after all.

“And Ignis?” He pauses looking right at me as a silhouette at the door, “Hold yourself back. At least until she is no longer your student,” I look to the paper, holding back my satisfaction at the stuttering of noises he makes before he slams the door. He is past his denial, and there is no warning I can give him past guidance to alter his path. Alone again, I am left to the quiet.  
  


In the silence of my office I can focus, which is a relief, because everything about this students efforts is penetrative to the depths of my understanding. I would be lost otherwise. The entire concept is so well articulated, it is masterful, but the scope of it is enormous and overarching. I see the breadcrumbs she has laid for me to follow. Foolishly, I eat the trail and get lost in her words. She is writing about the crystal structure of proteins, but she is asking overall a significantly more grand and obfuscative question. She has done it, she has figured out a way to dance around the pre-existing restrictions on my research. I can finally move forward. I can feel my blood rushing with excitement as I near the end.   
  


It skirts to be equal with my own work. It moves in tandem with Ignis’ thoughts. If I did not know him better, I would accuse him of assisting her, possibly writing it himself. However, his selfless pursuit towards her success leave me without any concept of ill transgressions. Ignis will accomplish greater things than me, and she, with the proper guidance will outshine him. He is right to want to place her under my tutelage. They think too similarly, and she will need to be pressed outside of her safe boundaries.

I have to take in a deep breath at the overwhelming feeling of it all— the giant transition from the previous paper to this one. I reflect on Ignis’s last words.

 

If Ardyn thinks he can snuff this flame as well, then I am going to eviscerate him first.

—

It was not in my plans to approach this building today. To go anywhere near this waste of life and space. Ultimately, this is actually important. I need to remind myself that even if there is an entanglement, romantic or otherwise, it doesn’t always mean that the other person is shifted lower than the one proposing the suggestion. I do, in fact, have a great respect for Ignis. Then again...

I had respected Ardyn once. It is such a strange thought. I can feel the shield that makes up the composition of my isolation firming up. I take in a deep breath to even out my thoughts.

This was not something I had planned to execute during my day today. The hallways that were once so familiar seem different, a strange transient moment in between classes without any life in them. But I know where my destination lies.

I open the door without knocking, cementing that my discussion could not wait.

“Leave,” comes out of me like a command and I realize I am not centered. The flirtatious atmosphere of his office— this pathetic attempt to clean up his mess disgusts you. He had only just managed to narrowly escape persecution, and yet, here he is, attempting another black mark on the establishment I am so proud to be a part of.

The child runs out the door as if they were about to do something wrong, and he has the audacity to look at me with a grin.

“Oh. What brings your stormcloud around here?” He knows he has a guardian looking over him. Someone with enough power and wealth to influence his ability to remain at the institution. Though, it remains to be seen if it will continue to go that route should he cause too much more trouble. Should I cause too much trouble. As soon as I hear the door close I make my approach.

I close all distance between us, lifting him out of his seat by the lapels of his jacket.

“Stop trying to erase her at once,” by the twisted expression on his face, I realize he knows who I am talking about without having to say her name, “You may have the ability to harm me, but I am building up quite the case against you,” comes the threat, unbidden. It is brought forth by the potential of something greater than anything I will ever be able to accomplish. I am made motionless by the noose my once beloved mentor holds around my neck.

“Come now, Ravus you’re overreacting. It’s not like you,” he’s squirming, weaseling his figure to slip free from my hold. I should not be holding onto him, “After all, if we both blow each other up, what’s left for us then? Think of the students,” Ah yes, this is the smile I know too well.

Condescension, the desire for a stalemate. It had worked in the past, but no longer.

I am so done being isolated, trapped inside my own mind while I search for roundabout ways to avoid his traps. I no longer care about the failsafe switch.

I shove him back into his seat, “I am thinking of them. I am thinking of how enticing the media would find two of the higher-ranking individuals at the school leaving open positions that are easily filled and replaced by others,” I stare down my nose at him, enjoying the towering threat.

For the first time, he looks nervous. I can’t even bring myself to smile at the satisfaction of his discomfort. The pleasure of it comes too late, too hate leaving my blood too cold to revel in it. No.

Hate is a poison in the veins that moves slowly, consuming and rotting the flesh left behind— it taints the blood and shuts down organs until there is nothing left but a weakly beating heart.

I am done with hate. I am past it to indifference as the clarity of my position has made me realize the sacrifice of myself will help others in the grander scheme of things.

“You’ll lose everything—“ the dog barks with no real threat to bite.

“Thanks to you, I have nothing beyond my position. If it allows the future of students of Eos to shine as brightly as she seems to, if they are made to flourish because of our mutual destruction, then so be it,” I have found my footing and clarity, I am relaxed without rage and it is gratifying.

“I am not adjusting her grade,” he’s latching onto nothing now. I do not care about her grades— I care about a thriving future for those that may walk the same path. I have done everything in my power to set up future generations with strict guidance towards my chosen acolyte. If only the first one was not such a perfect reflection of himself.

“So be it. I am not asking for special treatment to be placed forward towards her. I am telling you to find the level playing field, and live there. If I hear a single new comment from anyone, be warned. The Caelum blood in your veins won’t protect you,” and with that, I am finished with this conversation.

There is nothing else he can say that will contribute, so I walk out the door, unwilling to give him any more of my time.

I am aware that the loss of my position will leave her stagnant in the future, but perhaps the war will last long enough to lift her up.

—

You dodge out of the way of the champagne cork that reflected off the ceiling, laughing and feeling as light as the carbon bubbling up in the fizzy drink.

You did it! You survived! You made it all the way to 21 without dying, you fucking  _ passed all your classes _ sitting with a healthy B+ in APEA. You were willing to concede to Noct performing better than you— He had actually earned his A.

Something weird had happened there, but honestly, shit, you’re not going to complain about how he was suddenly avoiding you— And Noctis too. And what the fuck— Everything was easier too! You were pulling out so much more elemancy than you had in the past. It was like you were being given half-used repositories, and now you got to indulge in the wonderful feeling for  _ so much longer _ . You take another heavy drink choosing to forget about the struggles and instead taking time to appreciate everything you learned.

Looking around your small apartment, you’re wondering how Prom figured out how to sneak in. You’re not surprised, or even remotely put off. You’re rather delighted that it is happened at all. The decorations are charming, nothing too overzealous as he knows you so well. ‘Happy Birthday Baby Boy’ blown up in big letters keeps making you laugh.

Prompto is happy to be toasting to your life, already taking too many photos. You’re all cheering to the few weeks of freedom you will be getting over the summer. Noctis is of course, there, but Cindy brought Aranea as well and you’re just delighted to have found this small group of friends.

This is two more friends than you’d ever had! Okay fine, since it’s your birthday, you’ll even consider saying three, because Noct has really been growing on you. Like a fungus or a planters wart. Oh wait! You have another friend!!

**You:** I’m 21!! PArTy FoR MEEE!!!

**Ignis Scienteachya:** Well, well. Happy Birthday! How are you celebrating?

**You:** We’re bar-hopping all night and then, when we’re embarrassing, I plan on heading to somewhere nice to unwind~!

**Ignis Scienteachya:** A good rite of passage to fulfill. You know, I think I will celebrate the ending of the semester in parallel.

**You:** Ha1 Are you saying you don’t thonk we’ll ever converge?

**Ignis Scienteachya:** I would rather argue that you have already started drinking.

**You:** You don’t know meee

**You:**  honestly tho, Iggy, yo know me too well

**You:** <3 <3 3< <#

Prompto pulls you out of your texting by squeezing you around the waist and you’re just pure bliss in that moment. You lean into him and burrow your face into his neck, planting a kiss on his cheek for all of the light he brings into your life.

Buhamat’s Brilliantly Blazing Balls, it’s fucking amazing to have some time for yourself. You know you’re going to miss classes already, but now was the time to celebrate  _ you _ .

“Come on, we have a surprise for you!” Prompto’s fingers drag down your arm and you feel so alive. You’re guided down the steps to your front entrance by Prom, with your eyes covered by Cindy. It’s so awkward and charming as they subtle with you down the stairs that you’re over the moon.

“Y’all ready?” Cindy laughs as she reveals the absolutely ridiculous gift. You instantly, and playfully, punch Noct’s arm with a huge smile on your face. He starts laughing, and rubbing it blaming the idea on Prom.

“Listen. I fucking  _ love this _ ,” and you squeeze Prompto again, jumping with him in your arms slightly.

“Well I mean, I helped out too,” Noct contradicts himself as you make your way to the party bus. Instead of acknowledging it with words, you just hook his arm and pull him inside while he braces his hand on you to maintain balance. The lights are pulsing in fluorescent colors, transitioning with the loud bass music that floods your senses. It augments the tipsy feeling that rides down the back of your shoulders.

“Ya’ll really know how ‘ta get down,” Cindy makes herself comfortable in Aranea's lap, stretching her legs out over the seat she would have taken up. Instead of on a sitting, you spin around a dancer’s pole with one arm out to smack hands with your friends as you complete the circle. You’re almost falling over with laughter that this bus was meant to accommodate a professional.

“Yeah girl, come on! Show me your moves,” Aranea eggs on from behind Cindy. You make a pathetic attempt to climb the pole.

This is not your skill set. You laugh at the burning between your bare thighs as you slowly side down to the bottom. As you’re standing up, Prompto comes up from behind having just given the driver instructions, and takes the sides of your dress to pull it back down over your ass.

“Are you trying to start off the night with the outfit you came into the world in?” He teases into your ear. “I thought that was usually reserved for the end of the party,” You laugh way too hard taking another drink to hide any feelings of embarrassment. Or feelings. Best not to make things weird.

“Boo, it was a good show,” the teasing continues from the slightly hidden peanut gallery. You are starting to realize Noct’s featherweight status, as he’s already drunk. You’re assuming this, because he can’t stop laughing at your poor performance.

“I reckon you should show them your skill with the pole,” Cindy teases, brushing her lovers face with her fingertips. It looked like she was hoping for a kiss but instead her partner rolls her eyes and laughs looking away.

“Polearms are quite different, my precious yellow candy,” it’s a too-intimate of a goosing that makes Cindy bounce in her seat, but this was an intimate gathering and you were grateful they were so comfortable being affectionate in front of all of you. When you had the pleasure of meeting her in public one weekend, the two of them stood a distance apart, making it seem more like you were meeting Cindy’s best friend instead of her longtime sweetheart. Shit, you and Prom came across way more blatantly as lovers with your level in comfort and touch.

Hnggg. Keep those thoughts out of your head.

—

By the time you’re entering the fifth club, another fantastic gay bar, you’d been given so many free drinks from so many different individuals— you were in need of constant bracing from your hero. Prompto was so happy to oblige, while occasionally passing you between other now trusted friends. Occasionally, he was too busy, ticking more notches to his headboard. That’s unfair. He was only making out with them. You take another shot to fight back the weird emotion and smile at the fawning attention of Cindy and Aranea.

Your whole body was on fire and your mind was completely absent. It was such a strange and different feeling for you, to let your anxiety and perfectionism melt away with such disregard.

Noct’s hand slides down your forearm to your hand when he grasps it, tilting his head towards the dance floor. You know what? If Prompto was going to dance on other men and women tonight, you were going to rub up against his other best friend.

He had to be dying from heatstroke in the ensemble he chose tonight— some attempt to hide the fact that he’s out and about, no doubt. Ha, rhyming! You’re so smart and funny. 

You realize suddenly, he very seldom did go out, and you consider for the first time the penalties of being renown. Almost professionally, he avoided VIP areas and managed to have drinks brought to him to avoid any unnecessary interaction with people that may know him. You make it to the dance floor quickly, and you remember him rubbing your nose in all of his successes and you turn your back to him, suddenly changing your mind.

This seemed to read as an invitation for more salacious dancing as nervous fingers gently touch your waist. The gentleness transitions to the full pressure of his hands sliding and kneading into the flesh of your hips. He removes the space behind you, leading with his chest to brace your back and you change your mind about abandoning him on the dance floor.

Reaching your arms above your head, your chosen contact is to dig your fingers into his perpetual bed head, and he presses his face into your shoulder. You can almost hear his breath over the loud music, but you know it’s simply because you can feel the heat of it repeating on your neck. Letting the music roll through you you begin to dance. You close your eyes, and pretend it’s the person you’d rather be dancing with.

It liberates you, and you realize for the first time you’ve been hungry for touch you didn’t know you wanted. You brace your ass against his hips as you shift them side to side in a dip from your knees. You assume he must have something in his pocket. You investigate it further with a few more hip movements, unable to identify it. He matches the movements, rolling with you. His fingers feel greedy, dragging across the fabric of your dress as he pulls you closer to him. You’d imagined gloved hands, but trailing over the bare ones snapes your eyes open.

You break out of your mental illusion remembering you’re not dancing on your preferred partner and turn your head over your shoulder to ask. The question is lost to the music while he watches your mouth move in order to translate what you’ve said.

He pulls a roll of quarters out of the wrong pocket, laughing slightly, “For the Arcade,” he yells. You roll your eyes, disturbed that the gloves you imagined had fingers covering them.

“Use that to buy me a drink like an asshole,” you yell at him, over the music, and past the sound of your disappointment.

“Okay,” is his breathy response as he wipes the sweat into his hair.  He’d exposed more of his face than you’re used to seeing, “Give me a minute, I’ll be right there,” he fumbles as he goes to squeeze your hand, darting to the bathroom.

Alcohol must really do something weird to his stomach. You’re left at the bar in the embrace of the two most beautiful women there and you’re laughing with them when Prompto comes over, mussed up and delightful. You throw your arms around him, abandoning anyone else’s attention.

“Prommmmptoooo. You’re supposed to be my wings tonight. Be my Chocobo, help me get across that finish line,” you pull him into you and he braces on your waist, laughing and matched up against forehead.

You hear Aranea comment that this could be a really interesting party and Cindy pokes her in the boob for the comment.

“I don’t know, according to some photos I’ve been taking you’re doing incredibly well for yourself,” he snickers, too trapped to take a memory of your pouting face.

“Shall I die on this earth, unplucked and unpollinated?” You wistfully pull off of him, enthralling him with the dramatics of throwing your arm over your face in abandonment.

“Not if we can help it,” Aranea mumbles to Cindy who gives her a delighted grin in response. She is a loud drunk. Her and Prom are bound to get along.

“Oh come on dude! You’re golden, and you’re not one to rush into shit like that,” he presses your nose down like it’s a button, you tilt your head up and bite after it and he laughs.

“Prommm, come on! I’ve only been kissed, like, twice. Teach me your magical ways of getting people to want to do that,” You’re pouting and revealing too much information.

“Okay now hold on, one of those kisses so doesn’t count,” he chides breaking your ego further with a smile that breaks your heart. 

“Come on, that did too!”

“What are ya‘all talkin’ bout?” Cindy asks, from one side, Aranea framing you on the other. It was already too hot in this place, but sandwiched between two busty women and Prompto’s hands around your waist, well. It was sweltering.

“Prom was my first kiss and he says it doesn’t count because we were too young.” 

“We were like, 10! It totally doesn’t count!”

“It does too! You’re always so weird about it I don’t see why!” 

“You stormed away afterwards! You just leaned in and did it after yelling at me— It was hilarious!”

You’re pouting and glaring at him in frustration, contemplating repeating the situation again before your thoughts are interrupted.

“Well fix that right now. I thought you two had a very different kind of relationship going on here,” Oh my GODS. Aranea has you blushing too furiously to consider the depths of that comment.

“Dude!! That would be like kissing my sister!”

“You don’t brace yourself like that on your sister unless you’re from Niflheim,” she smacks his ass and he makes the attempt to avoid it by pressing firmly into you. This is both Heaven and Hell.

“If ya think she’s such a sister to ya, it won’t change anything to give it a chance, now will it?” What the  _ fuck _ , Cindy? You thought she was on your side.

Actually this is absolutely her being on your side but this entire conversation was making everything too weird.

He has to struggle a little to get his hand up to your cheek, and he’s laughing at the whole situation. You’re all drunk enough to think this is a good idea and he seems to too.

Right there, in front of the weird bar that has a surface transitions in rainbow colors, he starts with a gentle and chaste kiss. You’re reveling in it for just a moment, but something changes in him and he pulls you in while at the same time, he pushes you backwards with the intensity of his mouth on yours. There are too many extra hands stimulating you, his fingers are trailing to the back of your head, deepening the moment. Aranea’s hand is wondering between your shoulder blades and just under your right breast while Cindy’s is working over time with her hand crossed over your body to touch her partner’s leg and yours.

This.

This doesn’t feel right. The movements of his mouth are sloppy and too firm. It’s— It’s not lighting you on fire like you expected it to and you’re honestly having a stronger response to Cindy’s lips on your neck. He nearly shoves them away as he pulls you in closer, his tongue too slick, and the movements too erratic to be enjoyed.

Oh. Is Prompto a terrible kisser? Or… had you just imagined this for so long that there’s nothing here? You’re trying to keep up with him, but it feels like something in him has snapped and.

Oh my god he’s still kissing you. You feel the moan from him more than hear. How has this gone on for so long? He finally breaks the contact, his breath a little heavy and you don’t want to look at him, instead looking down and around and you see Noct just watching you four, his mouth slightly open as he stands awkwardly with two flaming shots in his hands.

You are actually relieved to see him and you realize your brain may actually consider him a friend. Betrayal from all sides, you sneak out to him and grab the drink, thanking him, taking it, and moving to excuse yourself to the dance floor in a rush.

“I severely misinterpreted where that scenario was going to take us,”  Aranea loudly comments, “I didn’t think you were going to be the one that broke in that situation, Blondie,” Gods you didn’t want to be able to hear her any more— how does her voice cut so clearly over the crowd?

“Ya’all. Maybe she only likes women?”

  
  


**You:** Everrrything is wierd adn I hate it

  
  


Noct has found you again, and you’re just willing the volume and vibrations of the music to change your mood. He’s pulling you somewhere— he’s pulling you towards the back exit. People are taking smoke breaks out here and it makes the air feel weird.

You just— He’s here you can confide in him.

“I didn’t want it to be like that,” it just comes spilling out of you, your stomach in knots twisting and folding onto itself. “It didn’t feel special at all— It felt like I wasn’t even present… Like I was watching it from the outside in,” You don’t want to cry while you look at him but he’s holding onto your shoulders rubbing them gently.

“Dude, it’s not as messed up as you think it is,” he’s pulling you into a hug and you take it. You bury your face in his shoulder and the quiet and cold are helping so much more than you thought it would. You’re grateful for the escape he just gave you, even if he smells like alcohol and is your biggest competition.

He pulls you back and pushes your hair out of your face, gently putting it behind your ear. “We’ve just been drinking— it’s fine,” He’s slurring too and it makes you laugh a little while you worry both lips into your mouth.

Releasing them, you realize he still has his hand on your cheek and you lean into it, sighing out. He wasn’t supposed to be a place of comfort but spending all that time studying together, just spending most of your days together has probably assisted in your brain’s betrayal.

“I mean, we could just even out the weirdness, and have everyone kiss you tonight,” He laughs at his comment but you nod, thinking why the hell not. You wanted to get the taste of Prompto’s hummingbird water out of your mouth anyway. He swallows, his expression growing serious at your nods.

“Okay.”

“Okay what?”

“Well, do it then. Even this shit ou—“ and you’re suddenly cut off. It’s a gentle kiss with a rough burn to it thanks to the heavier uncut liquor consumed by him all evening. His lips request the opening of yours and you acquiesce, falling into the moment. His other hand frames your face and you’re almost put off by the softness of his touch as he pulls you in deeper, your fingers getting caught on the weird vest he chose to hide in. Using his hands he tilts his head in leverage closing in on your body. The soft noise your contact pulls from him has you drawing him close. You’re light-headed and spinning as he shifts you against the outer wall bracing completely against you. He pauses for just a moment, breaking for air before coming back in and now he gets to hear the sound his rougher actions pull from you.

“Hey isn’t that the Caelum boy?” You hear from a random outdoor smoker. Breaking the kiss you look at him, shoving Noctis off of you.

“Why the fuck would a Caelum come to a dump like this?” And you grab him by the collar pulling him back into where it is dark and secret.

—

**Ignis Scienteachya:** Are you quite alright?

**Ignis Scienteachya:** Do you need someone to come get you?

**Ignis Scienteachya:** Are you safe?

**Ignis Scienteachya:** Where are you?

**You:** I’m oaky, goning to Nd my nitght — Somwhere fance.

**Ignis Scienteachya:** Please don’t frighten me like that again.

**You:** You careeeeeee!!~1

**Ignis Scienteachya:** Of course I do. It would be a waste of a very impressive person should anything untoward happen to you.

**You:** I caer abut yuo tooo, so muchhhh  
  


Your exchange with Iggy, now gone silent, builds up your confidence. It’s time to confront what just happened. You care about Prompto too! You were not going to let Prompto slip through your fingers— If Noctis and his surprisingly good kissing skills weren’t going to get in the way, nothing would. As soon as you see him, you change your mind.

“Prompto, we’re moving on!” You point to the door in victory as he lifts his head out from under his hands at the bar, “Cindy, Aranea, let’s dance on that fucking party bus to a nice-ass establishment!” Just move past it like it never happened. That— That was something you’re trained in. 

You see Noctis and Prompto exchange a weird fist bumping handshake and Prom looks so relieved at your returned friendship. Yeah, there was no need to ever bring up what happened again. He was right, that first kiss didn’t count, and now maybe, this one doesn’t either.

You stumble forward and Noct has your back, and so does Prom. You wrap your arms around their necks and let them bring you to your transportation.

Shit they always seemed to have your back. Prom was right, you need to be nicer to Noct.

It turns out, Aranea does have some serious pole skills, and you’re floored by the athleticism of it all.

—

You finally arrive at the grand establishment and Noctis shakes his head looking up out the window at it.

He takes off his hat and vest, changing openly in the party bus pulling out a different shirt all together. He pulls out a small vial, looks at you, and sprays himself with it.

“Oh my god, Noct, that’s terrible!” You hold your nose and he throws it off to the side, abandoning it.

“I can’t smell like alcohol when I walk in there,” he’s so red, and his voice has a slight strain to it. He looks at the bottle with some anger, or maybe regret as he shuffles himself into his shirt. Prompto walks up to him and ruffles the shit out of his hair and you feel like you’re watching their morning routine. Your drunken mind thinks they should bang.

“They should totally bang,” Aranea whispers to you as she suddenly invades your space, throwing her arm over your shoulder. You just nod like she’s spoken gospel.

“Hey can we like, pull up two blocks? I can’t be seen getting out of his bus.”

“Noct— You’re so stressed out, should we just, like, I don’t know. Go without you?”

“Hey! No, I want— I want to join in,” he’s suddenly looking down at his shirt while he buttons it up.

The driver speaks to all of you for this first time stopping two blocks up, “You’ve got about a half an hour left for this rental so… If you’re not back by then, I can’t make any promises. I keep getting scolded for helpin’ youngin’s like you out and not chargin’ for it.”

“It’s no big deal,” Noctis finishes buttoning up his shirt and begins to make his way forward. You stop him, and get to work, sloppily, re-buttoning him because he was off by one. His breathing is picking up as you work your way up his chest and Prompto snaps another photograph, “I-I can get us all rides home. This will be our last stop anyway, right, Birthday girl?” You look up at him after leaving the topmost button undone. It is a party after all.

“Yeah, I—“ You hiccup, “think this is good here,” the smile feels like it’s melting down your face.

Cindy grabs you by the zipper of your dress, pulling you along, “Come on now! Let’s embarrass some business men.”

“I am going to have to go first to make sure we can gain entry, okay?” Noctis is shuffling in front of the group. Prom has been super weirdly quiet.

You elbow him. He laughs a little rubbing his hand behind his head. You shove him again. He glares at you now. You do it one more time and he finally shoves you back. You stumble gracelessly into Cindy who rights you, but you’re laughing and now Prom’s laughing and he grabs your hand, looking into the night and ahead.

“Good don’t be weird about it,” You comment brushing shoulders with him.

“Heh, yeah. I’ll try not to be,” he smiles at you, “Hey dude. Happy Birthday.”

You lean your head on his shoulder.

The bouncer looked completely confused when Noct walked up to the door with the four of you in toe. But he didn’t say anything, just unlocking and lifting up the red rope to let you all in ahead of some other well dressed patrons.

“Thanks,” you finger gunned him. It was supposed to make him laugh, but instead he just looked like he was worried that he wasn’t going to keep his job. You didn’t plan this excursion, and you’re suddenly really confused at where you were being taken.

“Dude, the elevators over here,” Prom points to the glass one in the center. Noct looks over at the two of you, frowning and shaking his head no, instead pointing out a side corridor. He ends up using a key to call it, and you realize this is another establishment his family owns.

You take the enclosed elevator up, holding your breath the entire way to the top. When the door opens, you hear the gentle lilting of piano and classical music trying to soothe the tinnitus of the evening. A huge smile crosses your face. This was a perfect fucking ending to the evening. You’re an adult now, going to a luxurious adult bar.

“I love it, I love it so much,” you take in the crystal chandeliers and tall ceilings. Spinning around in a dress that hugs your form like it was a proper circle skirt.

“I feel right out of place,” Cindy side comments, looking more nervous than drunk in that moment. But you knew she was way far gone.

“You are a welcome presence anywhere you go,” Aranea kisses her temple, holding her hand and pulling her forward. They were a really good team.  
  


You poke Noctis in the side, liberating Prompto, “Drinks,” you whisper feeling like you needed to keep your voice down. You start giggling without knowing the source and it makes Cindy giggle, which makes Aranea giggle, which has the whole troupe suddenly stifling their laugher to not be heard too loudly over the sounds of the establishment.

Noctis first brought you to a roped off area, and you flop down on a lounging couch. It was nearly a perfect evening, weird kissing aside. But Noct was right, kissing him kind of leveled it out and made you feel composed. It would be a fun story to tell later— much later.

Prompto gets up to help Noctis grab the drinks for the group, while Aranea and Cindy are at the point where they are repeatedly telling each other how much they love each other. Being left to your own devices you fight off the weird emptiness that comes from not having any attention on a night that is supposed to be special. You want to escape the oppressing void, so you choose to occupy your mind elsewhere. You begin to eavesdrop in your relaxation. A few boring conversations about ‘ _ Oh the Economy _ ’ and ‘ _ Did you hear about Tiffany’s presentation? It was dreadful! Absolutely abysmal. You’d think a four year old could—‘  _ Jesus. Rich people. Another voice sticks out because of it’s teasing and you’re enjoying it.

“I can’t believe how you have this chick saved into your phone,” the voice is gravely, deep and full of bass.

“I think that’s enough, Gladio,” Oh!! Oh you know that voice. You know it so well you could pick it out of a chorus.

“No way, I can’t get over it. You’re not fantasizing about it are you? That makes it— It makes it about four times as hard to deal with. You start to distort things— Read signals that aren’t there. Trust me I would know,” Wow that’s a private conversation. You should go ruin it.

“Hey, I’ll be back in a bit okay?” You tell the remaining party members as Prompto and Noct come up with full bottle service, “Really I’ll be right back.”

“Need me to come with?” Prom offers, and you give him a weird look.

“What? No! Go sit and have fun,” you shoo him away while you listen for the voices again.

You find the source of your joy and just plan on full stop interrupting them. 

“Listen, I will get to change it back to her proper name soon. Regardless, I don’t think it matters much at all, nor is it any of your business,” he’s playing with his collar, seemingly overwhelmed by the conversation. 

“Woah, here comes some trouble, right for you Iggy. Brace yourself,” The surprisingly large dark haired man comments, leaning forward to smack Ignis’s knee. He turns to see you, flushed in the face with a furrowed brow that smooths into surprise.

Sitting on the sidearm of the luxury chair, you put your hand right on his shoulder for balance.

“I call him Iggy too!” You throw out your hand and introduce yourself to his drinking companion, who is just smiling with the most confused look on his face.

“This is a… Surprise,” Ignis comments, looking you over. Yeah you looked wicked good tonight too— this is great. Wow, everything is so great suddenly. He should be experiencing how great it is.

You slide your hand over to his opposite shoulder and gently press a pointer finger into his chest, “And you t-hought it would be parallel. I knew it would be perpendicular. I just knew it,” You’re smiling down at him, and he’s fighting one back. He’s looking down, almost shy suddenly as his hand cover the top of his drink, pulling it into his lap.

“Well I admit, I didn’t think this would be your final place to— as you said, embarrass yourself. Happy birthday, by the by,” Yes, there’s some teeth, in that smile. You switch your legs from being off the side to over his lap, resting them on the opposite side of the chair. His friend, Gladio, looks gobsmacked and you don’t give a shit. You slip slightly, and his arm comes up from under your legs to hold onto the outside of your thigh, assuring you don’t lose balance. What a gentleman. What a nice, firm hold he has. No why is he looking at his friend. You’re right here. You touch his face pulling it towards you.

“Have you ever considered what the source crystal might be made out of?” He’s looking right into your eyes and you enjoy watching his pupils dilate from his imbibing.

“Oh— Is she a scientist?” The third wheel asks as if you’re not right there.

“Indeed. And she is quite good,” Ignis responds, not breaking his eye contact with you. You’re not sure why he’s lying, but you’re willing to play it up.

“Well have you?” You let your fingers trail down his cheek to the framing of his jawline. Suddenly you’re feeling thirsty, aware of your desire for another drink you lick your lips. A soft breath of air leaves him at your touch and you’re not sure why, but it absolutely thrills you. He looks away, reintroducing his friend to enter the conversation.

“It’s a challenging subject to approach. It can be deadly and incredibly harmful to study it. Very few individuals are able to even interact with it without becoming completely injured, which is why it resides under the protection of the Caelum family’s establishment,” he mouths something at Gladio sitting across from you and you can’t read his peripheral statement. You steal the glasses from his face. There we go, now you have his full attention, “Pardon?”

“Oh you like have no prescription huh?” The lightly bearded man is shaking from holding back his laughter at this display. He’s shaking his head no to whatever was asked, “Do I look great? I’m sure I look great,” and you pull out your phone, pulling Ignis into your chest to get a selfie with the two of you in it, “Smile~ It’s my birthday! I’ll send you the image,” you take a snapshot from too aerial of a view and the picture is like, 90% titty but you do look awesome in his glasses. You occupy yourself with the texting while he brings his hand up for another sip of whatever it is he is drinking just looking desperately at his friend again. You feel him holding tighter to your thigh.

“Oh, what are you having? Can I try it?” You take it anyway, uncertain of why you’re being so awful. Taking a small sip, it burns terribly and you wince. The hand on your thigh is traded for a frozen one while he shifts the other to your mid-back. He would never let you fall and you know you can trust him. “That’s terrible and probably too expensive,” you stick your tongue out, holding it between your hands. It’s nearly empty now anyway. Ignis makes no move to get it back.

“I’ll have you know you just threw back 40 year aged bourbon,” his friend is holding onto his body posture while Ignis’s hand slides to your lower back. You’re leaning forward slightly and the balance is less precarious.

“Well. That doesn’t change the fact that people will put themselves through some real bull shit for the promise of prestige,” you gesture at him vaguely before returning your laser focus to Ignis.

“Well now. If that isn’t an echo of your current situation,” he teases, the cold hand that held the drink resituating itself on your leg for a better hold. He’s looking right at you and Astrals you fucking love the level of attention he’s giving to you, “Have you had any water this evening?” The thumb on your back is making the slowest movements and it feels so fantastic.

“What is that? Sounds like you’re trying to drug me,” You slur gently at him, holding the empty drink up to your mouth. The ice hits you in the face as you turn it too far upwards. You startle and tip the drink back just in time to not spill the ice everywhere.

Or at least you tried. You fish the ice out of his lap and he squirms digging into your leg and back.

“There all fixed” you beam at him, dropping the ice into the drink. He’s so flush you hold the glass up to his neck, leaning in more towards him. He gently winces away from the cold, brushing into you with his nose and looking uncertain of where to go.

“I’m starting to think you should just take her home,” his compatriot comments. There’s something weird about his tone and Ignis nods, the side of his head against your chest. Blinking hard for a moment, he’s suddenly leaning harder into the glass instead.

“But we just got here,” you pout. Ignis makes a move to brush you off of his chair. His fingers trailing over your legs before gently pivoting your feet to the floor.

“I don’t think you need of any more libations. Why don’t you take a seat over there, and we can chat a little more while you have some water,” No. You wanted to keep DRINKING. His tone wasn’t fair and suddenly you feel mad at him. UGH. Look at his pretty face, with no glasses on asking you to stop drinking.

FINE.

“Let me go tell my friends that you’re taking me home,” you retort, standing up and almost promptly falling down. Ignis’s hands meet your hips with such speed to steady you, that you’re laughing as you stumble. You drag your finger down his nose and boop his chin.

“Leviathan dude, who is that woman? Are you finally dating? Are you about to start dating?” That guys voice carries so loudly. Why does everyone think you’re fucking your professor?

As you stumble your way over to your friends you appreciate the ridiculousness of the scene on a different level. Surrounded by the avarice that mankind built, Cindy and Aranea are making out, while Prompto and Noctis are undoubtedly fucking up their scores in kings knight.

“Hey I’m going to get a ride home from one of my other friends Kay?” You wave to them over the red rope barrier.

“You sure dude?” Prompto is the only one who looks up, and he starts laughing, “Where did you get the glasses?”

“You mean my smartness-enhancers? These totally-bullshite and absolutely just for looks intelligence beacons?” You’re vouging so hard you almost stumble. He’s losing it at you and Noct finally looks up. He’s just looking right at you, appearing suddenly sober.

“What friend?”

“No comment for my brilliance alarms?” You present the glasses on your face like they are something to win on a game show.

“What friend?” He repeats himself, strangely stern.

“You’re like no fun at all dude,” you wave him off, returning back to Iggy. Iggy, who’s fun and likes to talk to you about really insane ideas that make you feel smart and appreciated. Iggy and his weirdly solid broad shoulders.

You have to weave your way through the establishment, but he’s already standing, waiting on you. You say your goodbyes to his funny and easily offended buff companion while he walks you to the exit.

—

“Dude, let her have a good night. She deserves to finally have some fun… Maybe even get laid you know?” Prompto’s voice has a slow, weirdly sad timber to it as he looks at his phone, moving his player character forward at half speed.

Noctis, almost without control, shoves Prompto trying to snap him out of whatever state his mind is in, “Those are our professors glasses!”

—

You’re leaning on him for support and you feel like your neck is loose and made to roll back and forth. His he’s placed himself under your arm while the other one is braced on your stomach keeping you level. Well, level as he can as he escorts you up the creaking wooden steps. You can’t stop laughing as you lean on him, your face now burrowing into his neck.

“You’re so good to me. I’m so happy to know you, Iggy,” comes bubbling out of you as if it was those were the most important words you should be saying. You’re nearing the top of the stairs to the narrow hallway that leads to your home. You wrap both your arms around his waist in a tight hug, enjoying the subtle clean scent he always seems to have. He has to grab the railing to stop you both from stumbling down but he’s laughing more freely than you’ve ever witnessed from him.

“Though the feeling is mutual, I hope you realize you’re being absolutely ridiculous right now,” you’ve made it to the top and he’s looking at you with a the softest half-cocked smirk. You feel like you want an excuse to touch his face, though you’re not sure why.

Instead of second guessing yourself, you trail your finger down his nose and pull it down past his lower lip, dragging it slightly along. His face contorts to serious as he searches your face and you start giggling at his stuff-shirted nature. You imagined he would bite at your finger for trailing so close to his mouth so you mime doing so, tacking on a wink with it.

“I am ridiculous! But you’re wonderful,” you pull his lapel through your fingers and bite your lower lip your gaze following your hand, “You really are,” comes out of you with all of the seriousness you suddenly felt. You let your hand cup his face as you watch it bloom in color. Releasing him and turning with a slight bounce in your step, “and… This is me!” You point to the first door in the hallway. There’s only three others in the old house but, for some reason it seems important that he knows which door is yours. 

As you turn you key in your lock you make the door slightly ajar. You realize he hasn’t left yet and the delightful lightness the ethanol in your system has caused everything to be great. “Thank you so much for taking me home, it was super nice of you,” You want to pull him inside the apartment and force him to talk with you until it’s light out.

“Of course. It wouldn’t be right for me to abandon you in your current state,” he’s adjusting the neck of his undershirt while he looks down the stairs the just came up.

You bounce up onto your tiptoes, closing your eyes with your hands sprawled on his chest and lean in to give him a grateful kiss on the cheek. You’re met with something so much more satisfying than the softness of his skin. You feel his gloved hand cup your face as your mouth seems to be opening of its own volition. Holy shit, his lips are so soft and supple as they give against the pressure of your own.

As his tongue meets yours, you feel like a current is ripping through you. You pull him in to taste deeper the flavor of his night and moan against his chest. His body frames yours while his fingers grab at your side and you stumble slightly opening your door further. He drags your lower lip past his teeth as he pulls back, breathing much heavier than you— no wait. You’re fucking painting to.

Now you’re both just looking at each other and frankly you’re waiting on some guidance of what is happening here. Instead he’s looking panicked shaking his head no. He takes one—two steps backwards and turns to the stairs. Turning back for just a moment, “Have a good evening. Drink some water,” leaves him just over his shoulder.

He grabs the railing as he is about to descend the stairs and pauses. You hear the loud breath leave him as he continues shaking his head no, leaving your apartment complex at a faster speed than you’d imagined he would.

“Um— Goodnight!” you call back, too late as the door has already swung closed.

That was weird. It was… Really nice but super weird. Like really, wow. Really fucking incredible. You still feel the weight of his lips on yours and everything is fucking tingling.

You walk into your apartment, skipping your couch and heading straight for your room. You sit down on the edge of your bed and just reflect on what just happened.

Maybe you should just pretend it never happened. Even if it felt significantly better than every other kiss you received all night.

Yeah no. You’re just going to act like nothing happened at all.

—

He can’t stop shaking his leg as his brain replays what’s happened over and over. It’s been two days. She’d refused to answer his phone call, for the first time  _ ever _ . Then texted him to let her die from her behemoth of a hangover. So yeah, he was giving her space.

She was like a sister to him, wasn’t she? But that kiss dude. Shit. What did it mean?

He runs his fingers through his hair for what feels like the 40th time in twenty minutes.

“What’s got you so twitchy?” Noct asks while holding his phone above his head. Prompto knew he was going to drop it on his face and he was waiting for it to happen.

“I’ve just been, ya know, thinking,” suddenly unable to sit still he stands up from the couch in their apartment. Their huge, lonely apartment for just the two of them.

“Wouldn’t it be good if she came and lived with us?” He spins on his heel, a weird open hand gesture flourishing in front of him. They’ve lived together before. He’s brought it up to her on several occasions and now that she and Noct seem to be friends, it made a lot of sense.

And he could figure out what was going on with all these weird feelings he’s having. She’d talk them out with him no matter how long it took. That was something he could always count on. Astrals. He could always count on her for anything.

Was she always just right there?

“Shit, yeah dude. I love that idea,” and there it goes, slipping through his fingers and hitting him in the face. He pretends it didn’t happen, “The guest room is basically all set up already anyway. When are you gonna ask her?”

“Right now!” He spins holding onto his phone and typing out her memorized number.  
  


She agrees without him even having to bring up how shorter her commute will be.

—

**Iggy Scienteachya:** I have excellent news. You, myself, and Ravus are all having dinner together.

**You:** Oh my god Iggy you can’t just call him— Not Dr. Nox Fleuret — but WHATTTTTTTTT

**Iggy Scienteachya:** I made you a promise, and if this dinner goes well, you will be on his short-list of candidates. That of course, depends if you perform well in his course next semester.

**You:** I am almost speechless— No that’s not true I am never without words. Where are we meeting, what time, how should I dress?

**Iggy Scienteachya:** If you’d like, I will pick you up as to avoid the bus system. Around 6:30, arriving at 6:50 for our reservation. Please dress professionally.

**You:** Yes Please! I won’t let you down!

**Iggy Scienteachya:** You never do.  
  


Holy shit. Okay. Deep breaths.

Everything you’ve been doing for the oh, past nine years or so has been for this moment. You’re prepared.

Just re-read that paper one more time. What time is it again? Okay. Maybe just get ready early then re-read the paperwork afterwords. Gods you were floundering. Ignis will make it alright. He’ll help you find your center, it’s like. His job in your life.

Fuckkkkkk.  
  


Okay.  
  


You’re sitting at the bottom step at 6:25 and when your phone rings at 6:30 on the head. You are already walking out the door. On time, Check. You’re wearing your one pair of nice and clean dress pants, a cream, silky textured button up shirt, and your favorite leather embellished jacket for armor. Some simple jewelry, and because you can’t hold back, bright blue pumps to fulfill some creativity. Professional, check.

Ignis was walking around his car for some reason but you’re already gotten the front door open. It’s a nice car. It’s a few years older, but it still smells new on the inside— you noticed that the other night. He’s holding the door open as he looks over your ensemble.

“Quite a change of pace,” he comments with a soft smile as he looks down at you. You’re beaming. You’re a ball of joy as you smile back up at him.

“I can do well sometimes, you know,” at that he just chuckles and closes the door for you. His gentlemanly behavior feels weird because it’s so unexpected, but you kind of like it.

“Are you ready then?” He asks, his hand resting on its side in the middle of the shared armrest. You knew that signal, you’d gotten it from Prom enough times.

Grabbing his hand and lacing fingers, you give it a tight squeeze, “I think I can do this,” you nod.

He squeezes back, bending your arms upward and taking it close to his mouth, “I know you can.” He turns his attention back to the road, both hands returning to the steering wheel as he takes you on the short 20 minute ride to your destiny.

He quizzes you the whole time, and it’s exactly what you needed to get your mind back in its proper place.  
  


—  
  


“It is a pleasure to properly meet you Dr. Nox Fleuret,” you re-re-introduce yourself for what you hope is the final time shaking his hand. A practiced polite smile is on your face and your heart is literally beating so hard he can probably see it in your neck.

Ignis gently touches your elbow, indicating the handshake has gone on for quite long enough, and you release his hand. Yours fall quickly down to your sides. Okay not a great start but not the worst third impression.

“Shall we find where we are sitting?” Okay, no ‘pleasure to meet you too‘ s’ either but that’s fine. No big deal.

RIGHT? You’re not Panicking. You’re absolutely  _ NOT _ panicking!

“Focus,” Ignis whispers at you. His hand flexing in and out close to your side. You take a deep breath and allow your mind to slow down. Walking to a more center table in the middle of the restaurant, you feel like you’re at an island. This place was no joke, cloth table coverings and everything. 

Sitting down at the table, you’re placed in the middle, Dr. Nox Fleuret to your right, Ignis to your left.

Ignis is attempting some soothing introductory conversation. Wine has been ordered, along with dinner. He’s bringing up a few tops, regarding what you’ve been focused on and— your personal rockstar cuts him off.

“I was under the impression I was here to have a discussion with her, not you,” and you have his complete, undivided attention. Something in you snaps and breaks.

“I have been following your work since I was a preteen. I first noticed your accomplishments under Dr. Izunia,” you don’t physically flinch but you close your eyes a little to hard at his name. Move forward, “which then evolved into focus on specifically spectrometry data and analization of crystalline structures. I have found myself fascinated by the principals you regularly bring forward but I notice you always avoid the specific topic that fascinated me from your very first paper. Dr. Scientia,” You lightly touch his arm without looking at him, all focus is on the man who won't break eye contact with you, “gently grazed the edges of it as well. Having looked over it from several different perspectives, I realize there may be one more way you will be able to pursue your topic without feeling the oppressive restrictions laid down upon you by your first laboratory,” Okay that was all said in two breaths, and you’re embarrassingly taking in a sharp inhale.

“Did you inform her of the restrictions?” His face snaps to Ignis and you’re suddenly worried you misspoke. You are watching Dr. Nox Fleuret’s face for any signal but it doesn’t change at all.

“Your studies have not come up in our conversations, if you can believe it,” he physically shifts in his seat behind your view.

“It is not something that is overly complicated to figure out, Dr. Nox Fleuret,” You will not be second guessed. Not right now. You need him to know—

Oh. He’s giving you a curious look. You’re suddenly smiling.

“Go on.”

“As I was saying, an alternate way to avoid the restrictions would be to cumulate a database of crystal structures that are know to be both incredibly effective in elemancy and ineffective. Cross comparing the results to see if the benzine rings resonate similarly when exposed to raw elemancy and potentially augmenting the forms. For example, I am interested in examining Alistar Bass bones to their counterpart, the Rotten Bone, to figure out why these simple changes may result in such significantly different metamagic. It could be sold as a proposition to reduce the waste of what we could be having for dinner and cycling it back into other more practical elemancy needs. Using common materials for complex tasks would be a very easy sell. Of course, that’s just the lead up,” You take in another breath as the food is set at your table. He is facing you, and you are facing him, ignoring what has been placed in front of you. He smacks his hand on the table, startling you as the silverware jumps. You feel Ignis’s hand on your side under the table to steady you.

“This is exactly where I thought you were going,” your inspiration swipes the flowers and centercandle off to the side, pulling a marker from an inside breast pocket. His voice is louder, slightly less balanced and you feel invigorated. He presents an alternate view of what you were going to say— and it’s better. It’s so much better you’re almost standing in your seat.

The evening goes by too quickly, with you and Dr. Nox Fleuret fighting for the pen as ideas flow out of you, shifting it, moving everything around in order to find new spaces. You complete one of his equations and he just points at it, clenching his fist in satisfaction and a ridiculously feminine giggle releases from you. This is  _ everything you’d ever wanted. _

You hear Ignis sigh but you can’t be bothered with that, not right now.

Dinner has runoverlong. Dr. Nox Fleuret smiles over at Ignis— Holy shit what a  _ dream, _ and then his face returns to still and calm.

“I see you’ve already finished your dinner,” comes out smoothly from him as he presses his clothes down in front, returning to his seat. You’re still standing in the middle of them, and you finally turn to look at him and he looks back blankly you.

Why? You’re doing so well. This was everything you’d been working towards. Whatever.  _ This was everything you’ve been working towards _ .

“Yes, I am in fact, still here,” woah. Woah buddy, what’s up with that bitter-ass tone coming out of that neutral-ass face. You furrow your brows at him, slightly shocked. Sure, you’d shushed him once or twice with an ‘I already know, Ignis,’ as he was trying to present a principle the two of you were already thinking over, but he wouldn’t be mad at you over that, would he? Dr. Nox Fleuret did the same thing!

He frowns when you keep looking at him, his voice a little quieter as he looks slightly to the side, “though I’m not sure why,” his eyebrows raise at the final comment and you’re finally speechless.

Ravus touches your shoulder and your heart is in your throat. It flutters there, in what is possibly the best way it has ever felt. Is everything always so light and weightless? “Perhaps we should get our meals to go, it is rather late. I admit to looking forward to having you in my class next semester. Excuse me for a moment while I inform our waitstaff,” You are just looking at him. At his beautiful heterochromia, at his beautiful fucking mind and you just smile. You’re bursting, no amount of whatever Ignis is doing will change that. You settle yourself down in your seat, taking one bite of the fish you had ordered, it’s actually cold. You wince slightly at it.

“Gross.”

“Indeed. Perhaps if you had taken the time to eat it while it was warm,” his arms are crossed over his chest. What is  _ up _ with him. You sigh.

“Thank you, Ignis,” you put your hand on the one he has closest to you and he looks at it, “Thank you for helping me get here. I genuinely don’t know if I could have made it here without you,” You’re wiggling your fingers under his and he relents, holding onto your hand completely. He’s not looking up at you, but you see the soft smile on his face return, “And hey. I got early sign-ups for next semester so you’re going to have to deal with me all of next year, too,” you squeeze his hand now fully enveloping yours, but his face goes from soft to tense in seconds.

He leans away from you at the sound of well made shoes across the wood floors. He’s breathing like he’s stressed. What?

You turn towards the sound as your white knight presents to-go boxes for you.

“We are all settled,” His tone is weird, he’s looking at Ignis, just boring into him. Ignis isn’t looking up. He’s frowning so hard. Oh my gods, you lean to get into the middle of this oppressive stare and he leans to look around you. Ignis stands up, still being avoidant as he collects all the dishes to the fourth chair, removing everything from the surface and— Oh.

You help fold up the table cloth and present it to Ravus, finally fully taking his attention.

“I am excited to learn from you,” you smile sweetly, handing it over.

He looks at you, softens slightly, and sighs taking it from your hands.

“Do you have a ride home?”

“Yes she does,” Ignis quickly speaks before you can say another word. Somehow, this irritates your future husband further.

Great. What is this incredibly strange tension? You’re fucking ready to escape.

“Okay, bye!” You wave at Ravus, and you being making your way out. Nope, apparently not. Ignis is just locked in silent combat while he swallows hard under the weight of this weird ass frown.

You gently touch his arm and he seems to release himself from the intensity, following you out of the establishment.  
  


This time you let him get the door for you but he doesn’t linger by it.

“So that was fucking amazing, and then super fucking weird. What silent conversation am I not privy to?”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” his hands strain the steering wheel, just, a white knuckled deathlock on it.

You reach out and gently touch his shoulder, and he tenses instead. He looks so upset you’re not sure what to do.

“It’s okay, you know I’m always here to listen,” you stretch your hand out, letting your fingers touch the back of his neck and he exhales. He turns to look at you for a brief moment. He is guarded, but he’s frowning.

“I know,” his voice comes out softer. This weird barrier is back up and you’re not sure what to do, “another time perhaps,” and he removes his right hand to squeeze the one you left on his shoulder.

You wiggle your way in between his fingers and refuse to let it escape. He sighs and holds your hand too tightly, but it’s okay because that’s what he needs right now. He begins to relax next to you when a weird message flashes on the dashboard of his car.

**Ravus:** I heard her call you Ignis.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LISTEN.
> 
> I know this is longer than the entire story has been so far, but I was determined to end on this scene and I love you so much for staying and reading the whole. Fucking. Thing.
> 
> Also. I _did tag this as rated E for everybody wants to fuck reader_ and I’m true to my damn word.
> 
> Thank you for reading ;__;
> 
> As always, Daimhin, random kudos and comment are the fuel that made this chapter actually happen, so thank you so much ;;u;;
> 
>  
> 
> I love you.


	4. C is for Crap, do I have three boyfriends?? [part 1]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s summer! It’s time for fun.
> 
> No, life. You said fun. What’s going on here?
> 
> This doesn’t feel very fun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for visiting! And I hope you’re ready for some emotions!

He is overwhelmed by the way the golden light plays off her form. It delighted him to be revel in the full exposure of it— to completely drink her in and watch her sink in repetition over him. She was never short on confidence. He was able to observe it so clearly as she exhales her efforts in up and down movements. He was almost overwhelmed, watching himself disappear and reappear inside of her. The warmth of her surrounding his length had his breath hitching in the deep serenade of how much he adores her. He is the trail of sweat that slides down her temple.

His fingers dig into her thighs and slowly up her hips as she moves perfectly on him, but it seems so strange how she can’t yet fully encase him. He grinds his teeth as he lifts his hips to penetrate deeper, pulling her down hard. She cries out in delight, and he feels it bloom in his chest. The words are trapped there, begging to be released.

His new motions have her bending forward over him, her hand caressing his face in balance and a deep, genuine fondness. She never stops her efforts, and he refuses to yield in his. He has to tilt his head up to kiss her lips, and she meets his invitation with an open and eager mouth, moaning against him. He wishes he had more hands so he could touch her face and pull her closer. But the sweetness of her kiss is making him over eager, and he wants to make her come. He wants it so badly, because then he can match her. Then he can stop holding back.

The moan that breaks them apart pulls one from him as well, because her pleasure is his own.

“I love you so much, Ignis” comes so sweetly from her lips as she brushes her nose against his. He has to slow down. He has to nearly stop.

“Darling, you know that gets me close,” his motions are paused with his hips raised, attempting to grind inside of her instead of stimulating himself. He furrows his brow in holding back shuddering breaths. He allows the strained exhales to escape from behind braced teeth as he feels her body showing the signs that she is closing in on her climax, too.

She pulls his hand from her hip as she sits up, shifting it up her body until he’s completely enveloping her breast. She continues her movements, gently and torturously slow. The tension in his face releases, paired with a loud exhale. He remembers he is allowed to touch her as much as he wants. She smiles with so much warmth because she knows it’s almost enough to set him over the edge. She knows him so well and he believes that she loves him.

“That is what I want, Ignis. I intend to ruin you,” she smiles so sweetly as a shadow casts over her. Her opposite hand laces with his in such tender affection while a third moves around her waist, teasing her.

Wait. No. No.

The light breaks into long shadows over her face against silver hair kissing down her neck as she rolls her head back moaning out, “I love you,” she calls into the air and suddenly he’s struggling to stay inside her. He drags his hand down her body to her waist, unlacing his hand with hers as he keeps moving. He grips as hard onto her as he can, but they won’t stay. His hands keep slipping off and suddenly they are bound to the bed they shared. He is removed from her completely with a slick pop and a bite to the air. Her legs are forced wider to accept a new burden and he has lost all contact with her.

She’s calling out for him while twitching against the invaders chest, “Yes, come for me,” Ravus growls as he teases her. Straining against his new restraints, he is made to witness her undoing at his mentors hand. He is giving her something he can’t. It hurts. His chest hurts and he can’t catch his breath. Blue and violet eyes nearly glow as they glare down at him from over her shoulder. He yanks her head back by her hair, violating her mouth. She melts into the kiss and he wonders if he is dying.

Ravus throws her down on top of him, and she can no longer meet his lips. She is completely controlled by the hand that holds her head back.

“You’re the only one I want, Ignis,” the words hit him so powerfully, her stomach rubbing against straining erection that the man forcing her down becomes invisible.  Her hands return to his face, blindly groping around and he braces against them. His natural reflex is to touch her, to embrace her in turn, but he is held back by an invisible weight. This is torture. She gasps out, newly desecrated in penetration that shifts her whole body against his.

She cries out for him again, or is that him crying out for her? Her face now submerged, forced into his shoulder as the light in the room shifts to cold blues and twisted violets. The music of the room is the dissonance of his grunts and her pleas, blended with wet and crass slaps of skin against skin. Ravus shows her no concern, no delight beyond chasing his own release and Ignis cannot stop him.

“I love you so much Ignis,” comes from her again, muffled by his own neck as she changes his surroundings back to warm, but her body lurching against his in a repeated force reminds him he’s lost her.

He’s was close earlier, and now he’s not going to make it. He still loves the feeling of her figure sliding against him, slick with sweat. She’s still stimulating him with her lower form, completely pressed against his body, but this— this is torment. This is persecution. He moans out into the evershifting room, everything but his hips are bound and frozen to the bed.

Ravus is grunting, breathing too hard in his lovers neck leaving bite marks and bruises. He is rocking a second orgasm out of her with aggressive thrusts as he selfishly pulls her head up away from his mentee, an ignited kiss she seems to love only inches away from his face. He feels Ravus’s hand extend her climax as he assaults her cunt with clever fingers, and her full body shudder is shared with Ignis.

“It’s not right,” it hurts too much and he’s suffocating, “ _I’m_ the one that loves you,” he shouts into the empty night air as the corrupted peak leaves him in strained pulses. He is torn between a moan and a sob as sharp breaths rip through his chest. He looks down at his body’s defiance of his feelings and he has to press his palms into his eyes. Immediately, he opens them, reliving his suffering.

He shifts out of bed, stumbling as he makes his way to the attached bathroom. He shocks his system with cold water shifting to hot as he scrubs himself clean. He takes deep breaths and recenters himself. He focuses on the beginning moments and his breath calms down.

How could such a beautiful dream become so cruel and twisted? He didn’t think he was that jealous of their interaction but apparently it unsettled him so much more than he ever could have imagined. They had done nothing more than kiss and he was so torn up in possessiveness that it was deeply affecting him. It was corrupting his psyche. But he didn’t— They weren’t together in any way. He knows this. It is nothing more than random phone calls, engaging debates and he has no right to demand her exclusive attention.

However, after hearing nothing was happening between her and Noctis, his imagination had gone wild with the possibilities. The fantasies became sweet and looked too far into the future. He kept the promise to himself not to sexualize her, but it made every thought too tender. No, it was nothing— just flights of whimsy and small precious moments that he allowed himself to contemplate when he entered his abode alone. When he opened the door to his achingly empty house he filled it with a dream. He used the image of her to make a home.

Then, she kissed him, and he knew what he needed to do.

Her grades— they were going to be locked and finalized the evening of the dinner, just after midnight. It would have required no board of ethics meeting beyond that explanation. There was a plan in place. He would have been an instructor in her field, yes but, he would no longer be her instructor. He’d successfully gotten her into Ravus’s classes and there was no more need for her to learn under him. He had kept his promise.

And then he could— He could have been with her. Late night phone calls could evolve into— they wouldn’t have to be phone calls. He could simply hang up and arrive— or perhaps they could spend the afternoon together, leading to the evening. Comfortable, shared moments on his couch while they read their respective papers, pulling each other’s attention with a concept. He could take her to museums and hold her hand throughout the establishment. A proud and silent declaration that yes, she had picked him. They could share coffee early in the morning and indulge in a kiss before work. How many times had he imagined that?

How many times had the morning light broken on the empty pillow next to him, with him reaching into the warmth imagining her sleeping face next to him?

He would have been willing to face the judgement, the stares. He would have accepted it with an open willingness because she would be at his side in strength and equality. No more would she be in the hierarchical limbo, the confused position where he holds her future. He wouldn’t have to hold back his want. He could put his hand on her lower back, soothe her stress. She could, in her inexplicable way, read what he wanted before he asked— and he would never ask.

He could rub that shoulder she keeps rolling in pain during class because she refuses to wear a backpack.

He exits the shower, making a weak attempt to dry himself off and finding new clothes to return to rest in. Still uncentered, he sits at the edge of his bed lifting his phone to check the time.

When he unlocks his phone he is greeted by the image of them together on her birthday evening. She looks so delighted and— he covers his mouth in both shame and delight. His hair weeps down his face with feelings he refuses to release. She captured his smile on camera, unbidden from anything besides the joy of having her near him. The article of his that she was wearing— the simple glasses made the picture so much more intimate than it needed to be.

They looked like they were together.

He throws his phone in deep frustration, the sound of it hitting the wall in an explosion. It lands broken on the ground, the wall indented by the force.

What did he just do? Who is he becoming?

He— He needs to adjust this. Gladio was right, his mind and expectations had gone off kilter. He wasn’t seeing things right. He wasn’t right.

He gets down on his knees to collect the broken pieces that networked him to the outer world. He looks at the impact in the wall, touching it gently. It reminds him too much of himself. Once so smooth and placid, it was completely unnoticed and hidden. Now, in a brief moment of heated passion, it became completely altered from its original form.

Taking in a deep breath he reflects on what he may had distorted.

She dismissed him, that was not inaccurate. She did it several times over the course of the dinner. He had stopped trying, waiting to see if it would be noticed. By the end of it, after an hour and a half of not talking, neither of them had.

They had been completely consumed by each other. He can’t remember the last time he saw Ravus smile and perhaps that was where the nightmare stems from. The way she flushed when he touched her shoulder, that was not imagined either. He could taste how much he coveted that reaction from her. And yet, he had no right.

He lets out an unsteady breath as he tries to turn on his phone. Nothing is happening. It is a useless machine.

She turned and thanked him for the evening. For everything. Like it was a goodbye or perhaps an acknowledgement of his solidified place in her life. There was the issue: he didn’t know. He couldn’t tell and he wasn’t allowed to ask. He rubs his thumb and forefinger together, moving it up to press against his damp forehead. She refused to release his hand the entire drive back, even after the suspect text message. She respected his wishes to not talk, though she looked uncomfortable. He closes the eyes at the thought, knowing she was never without words to say. For a moment it warmed him, and he furrowed his brows against the emotion. He—He could have simply been holding her hand too tight, unwilling to let her leave his grasp.

That may have been the real situation. He was, after all, still her instructor. Perhaps she felt obligated.

He had leaned across the meridian, hoping to feel her lips against his again. He didn’t cross too far, just half way, waiting on some confirmation that she felt the same. Anything to indicate she liked their previous one as much as he did. Astrals he couldn’t stop thinking about it. She could have given him anything, even just a lean in from her side and— he realizes the issue. He could no longer see his reflection in the well of hope he drank too deeply from. Instead, she just gave him a curious smile, and thanked him using his last name for the ride home, and exited his vehicle. A stark, professional wall had rebuilt itself in place after nearly a year of pulling it apart brick by brick. He looks to the device in his hands, focusing his attention on the fractured and cracked screen.

It doesn’t seem to matter how long he holds on his power button down. He would not hear the gentle chime. No new beginning, or second chance. No indication that it would ever be the same.

  
  


The sharp inhale is submerged the within clench of his chest. He holds it there, unwilling to let it out.

 

—

 

“Come on! We can do this together guys,” the words come out of your mouth between panted breaths, “Just a little bit more, and we’ll all be finished. You are both big, strong men. I know you can do this!” The weight of the books in your arms is draining. You’re already half-regretting moving in.

“I could have just,” Noct is surprisingly overwhelmed, but in his defense, he was carrying twice as much as he probably should be, “Paid someone else do this. Or just replaced everything. It wouldn’t have been a big deal—Gah Hey!” He stumbles and unfortunately recomposes fast.

“Dude! Bad form,” Prompto kicked him for you, making him trip up the stairs. You loved him. It was really too bad the service elevator only went to the 60th floor. Your troupe had to walk up three flights of stairs, and you’d already done it four times. You were all wiped. Prom smiles up at you, and you send him a wink for his troubles. An uncharacteristic double laugh comes out of him. He’s been so weird lately.

“A lot of these have my,” you use your hip to hold open the door for them, “personal notes on them. I don’t want to lose any— And fuck your money,” you glare at him as he struggles to see around both of the boxes in his arms, an ashamed frown on his face. He’s overburdening himself and being extra helpful on purpose. Some clever way to show that you shouldn’t get mad at him. That had to be it. Augh!

“Noctis, Prommie, just drop those at the foot of the bed, I’ll sort them out,” gods, your shoulder was absolutely killing you lately. Mr. Money lets out an irritated sigh and enters the guest— your new room. The new room that was the size of your old studio apartment. It felt wrong. But you were living with Prom again, you were super close to your school, had access to books that were usually in museums, and it really put you in a good mood. You could almost ignore the ethical concerns of living in a Caelum building, so deeply buried in the back of your mind.

Your shelves had been disassembled and thrown across the edge of the bed. There was nothing you could do until they were assembled, and since Prom helped you set them up at your old place, he volunteered to help again while you pretended there wasn’t a window while the blinds were down. An entire floor to ceiling wall of windows— who does that? Okay it was awesome until you walked near it. As soon as you were up close to it you felt like you were falling. Shit, you were going to have to get over this fear. Slow exposure would hopefully do the trick, but for now, you just cover the view up behind blinds.

Noctis came in with some water and snacks as the three of you— he really didn’t have to help— assembled the shelving in a record breaking, slow, inching, crawl.

“I swear I put all the screws in this bag. I promise I did,” your aim was to search under the bed, frustrated bending down. Determined, you get down on all fours and just fucking burrow under there.

“I uh— Well it looks like there’s a hole in the bag— dude,” you have to shimmy backwards to escape and you’re greeted with avoidant eye contact. You snag the bag from him.

“Damn it!” Comes out of you fast as you investigate the hole that is exactly large enough to lose several screws.

Noctis has already pulled out his phone while you continue your search. You eavesdrop for a moment and realize he’s called the front desk for some tools.

“Noct!” Your tone is more scolding, frustrated by the lack of progress and wanting to settle in. He puts his hand over the receiver and gives you a gentle glare in return.

“Just let me take care of you, alright?” He turns his back, returning to the conversation. You flush slightly. When did he start fighting back? Prom gently touches your shoulder, taking you out of your stare.

“Okay dude, we’ve got two of the four up— do you want to start organizing this?” Already knowing your wants, he starts to go through the one box you specifically brought up yourself. Oh Shit.

“Well I mean, I can do that,” delay him! Don’t let him— Oh no. His face tells you he knows what that box is.

“Isn’t this…?” He opens up a simple journal with too much excitement and begins reading loudly, “‘Oh, what a mind rests between these broad shoulders. That smile, settled beneath the surface of his expression pulls me into the undertow as I am made breathless,” he throws his hand over his forehead in pure dramatic fashion as you struggle to dance around him in take your childhood diary from him. It was such a mistake to share it with him when you were younger, “How much would I like to explore the expanse of his thoughts? So vast and unexplored. What would it be like to dive deep, and taste the water as it fills my lungs with new ideas? What would it be like to taste him?” that’s it! You’re going to tackle him. Noct enters the room as you make your flying leap, but Prompto seems aware and skillfully dodges out of the way. His spinning movement allows him to deftly avoid you while he leaps onto the bed. You feel a burning embarrassment flood your face.

Dr. Nox Fleurets photo gently lands at Noct’s feet, and he steps on him as he walks over to help you up.

Instead of being assisted, you gesture wildly at Prompto, “Get that from him!” You begin your assault with any nearby object and throw it with vigor towards him. Noct suddenly looks like he’s ready to back out of the room and avoid the entire situation. You hear a paper rip under his boot.

“You really stepped in it now, Noct! You’re stepping on the face of her one true love” Prompto does a final flip on your bed as you still, every piece of mortification petrifying your stance.

Noct slowly lifts his foot to look at the younger version of your youthful fixation. He seems hyper focused as he slowly picks it up and looks from the image to you, and then back again.

Abandoning the attempt to get your journal back from Argentum, you instead further rip the picture in half as you snag it from Noctis’s grasp. “What are you trying to catch something with that gaping mouth?” You tap him under the chin and your embarrassment is gently soothed by the sound of his teeth colliding. Crumpling it up, you toss it off to the side. You make a mental note of where it lands, “I was young okay? It’s not like that anymore,” the deep redness of your face may say otherwise, but you’re determined to make it an absolute truth.

The absurdly pretentious bell breaks the tension.

—

Okay, so having two people assist you made everything finish up in record time.  Apparently, you didn’t own a lot of stuff, just an enormous amount of books, and once they were off the floor and on the shelves, you felt like everything was wonderfully put together.

Without asking, your favorite Altissain style food was ordered and brought in. You squeeze Prompto for the favor, already past the revealing of your childhood secrets. You can’t focus on past embarrassments, they made you who you are today. So what if 10% of your pursuits stem from a childhood admiration of thoughtful blue eyes. You nearly grimace at the fact that your only proof that he didn’t always have heterochromia was ripped nearly in half.

Noctis opens up his food and reveals your exact order. “No dude, he’s always liked that too,” Prompto comments without even having to read your perturbed face, “You guys have a ton in common. I can’t believe it’s taken this long for you two to become friends,” he plops himself down in the middle, taking up more space on your side as you two have a small battle of leg-spreading. You’re no longer fighting the huge grin as you lean over your food set up on the coffee table. It’s… Incredibly nice to not be alone.

He puts his arm around you as you’re scrolling through your phone and the two of you watch and backseat game Noct. It’s eventually agreed with a voice of frustration that you’d trade off every time someone died in this single player game. Suddenly, it was evident that he was actually doing well, and how on Eos were you supposed to fight off these crazy daemons? After the 6th time of getting one-hit KO’ed, you finally abdicated your turns with the intent to read a little bit instead. Aranea and Cindy had you in a ridiculous group chat full of hilarious memes and cat pictures, and you couldn’t help laughing out loud at several of them.

“Your boyfriend hitting you up?” Prompto comments with a touch of snark. You elbow him and cause him to die in game. Noctis readjusts his seat to be a little more stiff.

“Naw just stealing all your girls, Prom,” you reply with the same acrid tone. Perhaps a slight bit more of smug on your side, but if he wouldn’t drop the concept that Ignis was your boyfriend you were going to lose it.

“Oh yeah? That’s good, I’d love to share with you,” what are these awkward words he’s throwing your way? He usually squirmed at your comments. You suppose it’s time to play a little bit of chicken with him, but you’re cut off before you can reply.

“You have a boyfriend?” Noct asks taking the controller in hand, fixated on the screen. You put your face in your hands and let out a loud irritated sigh.

“No. Promptie is convinced that my relationship Professor Scientia is romantic for some fucked up reason— Gods, I think even Dr. Nox Fleuret thinks the same. He sent the weirdest message to Ignis,” you grab Prompto’s accusatory finger that he pointed with when you used your professors first name, and shake it like it’s a terrible introduction. He fights a laugh.

“I mean, you are pretty close with him. I remember you mentioning all three of you had dinner,” Noct’s tone is strangely even. He looks almost angry he’s so determined to finally take down this boss.

“Well yeah, it was an evaluation in an attempt to let me skip a preliminary course and sneak into Dr. Nox Fleuret class for this upcoming semester. I’m registered for everything else. It’s making me feel a little nuts just waiting on some paperwork to join the class,” you cross your arms as you look back over your last messages with Ignis. He hasn’t said anything to you since that night.

“You’ve gotta spill the details. How do you know what he texted to Ignis,” Prompto says his name with a little heat and you just flush with irritation.

“He was courteous enough to drive me home, okay? It was nice. Polite even! But his phone is hooked up to his car and there was this weird ominous fucking message. ‘I heard her call you Ignis,’” you let your tone play up the ridiculousness of the message, “I mean, what the hell does that even mean? And he was being all weird and closed off on the drive back after they had this intense staring contes— Nice Noct!” You suddenly cheer as he manages to finally reduce the enemy to ashes.

“Shouldn’t he always be closed off?” Noct doesn’t sound like he’s celebrating the hour long struggle and repeated map, and he’s just boring into the screen in front of him. There’s a small frown cutting into his expression.

“It’s not my fault that the people I know are more interested in cat memes and video games. It’s been incredible to actually talk about the things I care about, and then dive deeper into them. Like— I feel like there’s a whole part of my life that I was never exploring because I was my own reflecting board. It’s been eye opening and expansive. I really,” You feel them staring at you. Prompto is looking insulted while Noctis is looking… more relaxed? Okay, so your voice had gotten a little soft and wistful while thinking about past deliberations with Ignis but that doesn’t mean anything, “I just feel like it was something I was missing. It’s not romantic, it’s just mental compatibility,” you bury yourself back in your phone.

Prompto is saying something now but you can’t hear him. You received a new message that made your heart rate spark up in both anxiety and anticipation. Everything is quiet and missing from your periphery as you focus completely on the e-mail, rereading it several times.

It’s incredibly polite, succinct, and full of the assumption that you’d already said yes. You loved every word. Cutting Prompto off in the middle of a tease, “You guys I am part of the summer program with Dr. Nox Fleuret!” You all but yell as it fully registers in your brain. Standing up and spilling all snacks off your lap you nearly spin out from behind the couch and run to your room with a skip. You hear the dual congratulations but you’re so far mentally removed from whatever they were doing in that moment you can barely tell if they mean it.

Closing your door, your fingers type in the memorized number on the dial pad and you wait for him to answer. And it rings. And keeps ringing. Okay, come on he almost never lets it go past four—

“Greetings. You’ve reached Ignis Scientia’s phone, I am unable to—“ You hang up with a heavy sigh. You wanted to share this victory with him, but, apparently he was too busy. You’ll try again tomorrow.

No, fuck that you wanted to tell him right now, you try calling a second time in two minutes and you get the voicemail again, and instead of hanging up you ramble on until you’re disconnected. You ramble about how excited and ready you are to have this opportunity, which is great and you absolutely blame him for it.

It would have been nice to hear his acceptance of the tease.

It doesn’t matter right now, because in two days, you would be starting long hours as a summer intern at the most prestigious laboratory in all of Eos. You could almost cry you’re so happy.

—

Thanks to several of his experiments being too time-sensitive, Ignis hadn’t had the opportunity to replace his broken cellular. Having his replicates all happen in fast succession was one of his strengths and traditionally led to fast data collection, but apparently in this moment it was a weakness. He swallows hard reflecting on the impact his dedication has on his personal life, and pushes the thoughts away. He had put off ordering a new phone, convinced he would be able to leave lab in time to head to the store for a new one, but it was for naught. Eventually, he placed an online order, and it would be four more days before he obtained a new tether to the world outside. It was, distressingly, not a large hindrance on his life. He typically used his phone to read the news and listen to podcasts on science and cooking. There was just one name he looked forward to seeing on the screen. Even if Gladio’s daily motivational quotes were uplifting, it wasn’t the name that threatened a smile. He grimaced as his mind kept wandering off course and he re-steered it with a clenched jaw.

He really needed to meet someone new, if only to be able to push these more sensual thoughts onto someone else. They were back with a fury after that dream, in small flashes of incredibly vivid imagery. He had worked so hard to repress and change his thoughts, that reciting the elements was becoming a Pavlovian invitation of her figure mixed with his. The visuals hit him like well-timed waves that covered his lower half in warm inviting water. No, he refused them. He would not picture her sitting on the edge of his desk, bare and waiting for him as he opens the door to his office. He shudders. He refused all the mixtures of ways she could sneak behind his eyes. This strange fixation was over. He respected her, he was proud of her and her accomplishments. He simply needed to remove these less palatable thoughts.

Opening a fourth can of Ebony, he begins looking over his evening task lists. Finally settled in his office, he began to prep new lectures and analyze the data. His mind projected her voice, making an excited observation that startled him in his seat. Not only was it something he wouldn’t have normally considered, but it was an absolutely positive insight. She… Their conversations were advancing him now. The realization hit him with a blooming warmth in his chest as a full smile covered his expression. The draw towards her was so much more than lust, that it was a relief to realize it’s more just her that pushes the thoughts there.

He should absolutely reach out and offer her a place in his lab for the summer. They had a few discussion about it, and he was excited to work over protein analysis with her in a proper setting. This was work related— it was fine. She was truly an incredible partner in every regard to his mind and concepts. It would simply be a nice bonus to have her at his side daily, for hours at a time.

He shoots the email off, looking forward to hearing her excited and undoubtedly positive reply. Shuffling some notes around on his desk while he waits for what should be a fast response. He feels impatient, and chooses to occupies the dead time by using his hardline to check his voicemail.

It’s a strange cold sensation that moves down his shoulders and neck as he realizes she was poached from him. No— that’s inaccurate. He simply… He simply sent the message too late. And perhaps not even that, with how delirious she sounded, she may have backed out of her commitment to him even if he had sent it on time.

He takes another sip of ebony, using the bitter liquid to subdue the emotion that welled in his throat. She was so delighted, almost manic. He closed his eyes at the sound of her smile cutting through the affectionate accusations.

He blamed himself as well.

As expected, he receives her polite refusal in an email laced with gentle confusion. He rubs the sudden tension headache out from under his glasses.

Right.

Moving forward, the second highest performing student in the class was surprising. It was actually impressive, considering how much he had improved in the previous semester. He sends a terse invitation to Noctis Lucis Caelum. It’s accepted by the next morning.  
  


—

Okay. Deep breaths. You are going to do amazing, you have the theory, you will learn the techniques and it’s absolutely fine that he’s going to be your first lab. Hopefully there will be a grad student you can bother with all of your questions so that by the time he comes around and checks on you, you’ll have everything mastered. It doesn’t matter that you haven’t so much as run a western-blot. That’s what protocols are for, right?

Yeah! That would do the trick. You shudder slightly with nervous energy as you lace your commander boots up, dusting them off with a nice polish brush. So, you barely slept last night in anticipation, forcing Prompto to spend time with you by playing cards until he was bored out of his mind but it’s fine. You look over your outfit, a fitted, professional looking black turtleneck to show you’re ready and mean business, and some light washed jeans to not look too try-hard. You’d be given a lab coat— Your very own lab coat!! — when you begin your experiments.

You feel your heart swell as you take almost too much time styling your hair into something off the back of your neck and manageable. Small, but shimmering earnings for accents and subtle natural makeup that won’t draw attention to you, but accent your better features. Yes. Perfect. Alright.

Okay, you just have to leave and head there.

Come on. You can do this. Everything you’ve done, all of the work, the research, the hours spent indulging in magical theory, it’s been for this.  
  
  


Why is this so hard?  
  


It hurts to swallow down the butterflies that feed on the nectar of your uncertainty. You finally leave your room.

Noctis is weirdly awkwake and dressed himself, “Hey, come over here for a second,” and he’s just waving you over to the fridge. You don’t technically have time for this but apparently you’re docked at procrastination station. Walking over, he opens it and shows you a shelf that looks ridiculously beautiful to your exhausted mind, “I figure, with our new schedules we can use this,” he reveals the majesty of a fridge stocked with Ebony. Just a shelf full of, probably 40 cans of it. Wait a second.

“You don’t drink ebony, Noct,” your tone is accusatory and suspicious. You really never say good morning to him, do you? At least in your defense, he didn’t greet you either.

“Uh. Yeah, sure I do,” oh, this is entertaining. He’s pulling one out really slowly, frowning slightly at the can as he cracks it open, “Why would I always have ebony on hand if I didn’t?” he’s red in the face at his lie and it’s got you smiling. He brings it up to his mouth and like slow torture takes a tiny sip while closing his eyes and wincing in the swallow. You picture a cat raising its hackles at the displeased expression on his face.

You laugh, because it’s just what you needed this morning to feel more confident. You simply take the can he was drinking and grab a second, “Look, I really appreciate it, but, put the cost of this on my rent okay?” You gently shove his shoulder, smiling as you take a drink. You probably couldn’t afford it, but you’re damn sure not going to let him pay for everything. He simply gives you an odd expression that could be an impressed smile and you’re not sure why.

“What are you doing up so early anyway?” Your eyes are half-lidded in their examination of him, already nearly finished with his drink.

He leans on the counter trying to look smug. All effect is lost in his lean as he slips slightly, his elbow just continuing to make its way inwards on the table, “You’re not the only one with a lab to head to this morning,” he has a weirdly genuine grin on his face, his arm still sliding until the side of his body acts as a brace to prevent him from fully falling over. Why wouldn’t he just stand up like a normal person? You’re still laughing at his clumsy sloth-like nature. He’s the worst.

“That’s honestly incredibly exciting,” you pull the trash out from a sliding kitchen cabinet and slip the can into the recycling tucked neatly behind. “Who’s making the risky decision of taking you on?”

“Dr. Scientia.”

Your smile goes a little stiff on your face. Sure you were working with Dr. Nox Fleuret but, how dare he take your place in Ignis’s lab? Calm down, don’t look irritated at him, just leave. But really— Noctis? Ignis how dare you. Why wouldn’t he just wait for you? Why couldn’t you just work with both of them? You are suddenly picking invisible lint from your shoulder and turning away from him. All softness in you is lost, paired with a sour feeling churning your gut.

“Well have fun with that,” leaves from you as your watch gives you the warning that you needed to leave to arrive on time.

You finally make your way out the door, down the steps to the service elevator waving to the restaurant staff, and make your way through the opulent lobby to the place of your dreams.  
  


—

When you enter, you’re absolutely struck by the laboratory. It is startling in is cleanliness, openness, and quite frankly, incredibly sterile nature. It’s what a lab should look like. It was like a bad science fiction movie, it was so pristine. And quiet. It was so quiet. There were 16 benches in total, but none of them were occupied by any bodies, however it looked as though eight had consecutive running experiments on them.

Where is everyone? Where are you supposed to go?

You hear the gentle sound of well-made shoes on tile flooring. Turning towards the sound you feel your face flush with delight and excitement. Dr. Nox Fleuret is walking towards you and it feels like he’s moving forward in slow motion. His long silver hair pulled back into a tight bun, his button up shirt stretched over his body in a fitted way that— Get a HOLD over yourself. Other observations, quick! He has a white coat draped over his forearm— you realize it’s your coat. He seems to be scrutinizing you down the length of his perfect nose as he hands the protection over, making efforts to not come in physical contact with you.

You open it up, slipping it on and you notice a small detail that has you absolutely bursting with joy. It has your name on it. Your name is next to his name and the school’s emblem. Are you vibrating? You feel like you’re vibrating.

“Good morning,” the pleasantry sounds forced, like he’s trying to get it past his teeth and you’re just smiling up at him while your fingers trace over the name across your breast. You have to swallow down hard to regain yourself.

“Good morning to you too, Sir!” You need to drop the excitement back something around 200% but you’re just bursting. He’s just frowning at you. Oh Astrals, he’s frowning at you already?!

“You have several hours of safety procedures to fill out before I can give you your first protocol. Here,” he hands you a folder you didn’t notice because you were so hyper-focused on the coat. It’s got more heft to it than you anticipated as you looked at the documents inside.

“Oh, alright then—“ he’s already walking away, “Um, where should I start on this?”

“Pick a workstation,” he gestures over his shoulder.

“I don’t want to accidentally take someone else’s,” Shit, you’re starting to feel incredibly small at his dismissal.

“If there’s nothing on the desk, then it is open,” he turns around towards you again, crossing his arms as if your question was asinine. You swallow down something that is the opposite of excitement.

“Will I get the opportunity to meet any of the other students here?”

“There were three recent graduates that have made their way to new labs. The remaining post doctorate, Nyx Ulric, is in Tenebrae working on his project with a sister lab,” Well, he is answering all of your questions. He’s answering them with a perfectly flat and neutral face. The sterile nature of the lab feels more intense in this moment, “As of right now, you are the newest, and only other member of the laboratory,” He looks at his watch. Suddenly, all of the times you did this to Noct feel significantly more rude than you ever intended.

“Alright,” Shit, there goes your plans to pester the graduate students for assistance. And the postdoc isn’t even in the lab? “Do you have a lab manager or a technician?”

“The technician did not follow protocol well enough, and I work as the lab manager,” his arms are released from the front of his body, dropped to the sides. You have nothing to read from him. Is he irritated? Is he… You don’t know. You absolutely cannot read him. The feelings of wanting to escape amplify as you being pulling out documents and too many fall out at once, causing you to have to bend over and collect them off the floor. You were already starting to feel the pressure escalate. He is approaching you again, handing a few pieces of paper over after he rights them into proper order.

“I have heard a lot of outstanding things about you,” his tone is cautious, or perhaps it’s cynical? You’re starting to sweat.

“Oh? Well, I’m glad my reputation for perfection precedes me,” you attempt another smile at him, forcing the dread back down your stomach. Your weak attempt at a diffusing humor following your clumsiness gets you no reaction.

“My expectations are already at the highest bar. I assume you will do your utmost to exceed them,” You’ve got nothing. You have absolutely nothing. No experience in a lab, no words, no feeling in your fingertips.

“Yeah,” leaves you and you simply turn around finding a bench and fighting against the panic in your mind.

—

It takes you four hours of reading to get through some of the dullest safety requirements you’ve ever read. You get up and walk to Ravus, who is currently running circles around the eight lab benches set up, fast and deft hands making quick work of the requirements. He turns to you with strangely stylish safety goggles across his face and it makes you smile slightly.

“Have you finished the reading?” Oh there’s that terrifying flat tone. Refusing to shrink again, you nod, and he moves to another station back, with you following behind. He stops so abruptly you nearly bounce off of his solid back. You watch him swallow down irritation as a hand raises up while he takes in a deep breath. You flinch closing your eyes in wait. No. Snap out of it!

When you look at him again he looks slightly concerned at your response, a gentler frown now paired with furrowed brows as he hands you a piece of paper with a login code. He was just taking off his safety goggles.

“Take the tests and verify a login for yourself. Please,” He’s studying your face with a different level of scrutiny and you’re not sure now to respond beyond nodding. There’s a moment of pause before you do start to shrink in on yourself and turn away, but some words catch you off guard.

“I’m not mad at you,” comes out flat and neutral. Just a factual statement from a factual man. You look at him shocked, wondering if you’re such an open book and smile a little, making your way back to your workstation and pulling out your computer.

You connect to a special server designed to protect the secrets of the laboratory, and make your way through the tests, easily passing every one of them. You’re starting to feel stir crazy from lack of real mental stimulation.

Walking over to him you open your mouth to speak but a hand is held up to give you pause. He quickly returns the hand to his work and you stand there for another… oh wow, ten minutes, as he finalizes the experiment. You watch with intense fascination trying to figure out what he’s doing with the 96 well plate, and the incredibly interesting multi-headed pipet.

“You read the pages slowly, but you finished the tests significantly faster than I planned,” He’s not looking at you in that moment while he returns a pipet to its rightful home. A few notes are taken on an open lab notebook when he finally looks at you. “Are you now certified?”

“Yes, I’m pleased to say,” but the smile doesn’t hit your face as you have nothing to bounce off of in reflection of his stern gaze. It’s so incredibly quiet in here. How can he work with no sound at all beyond the hum of some of the machines?

“Good,” He walks two lab stations ahead and pulls out more documentation. “You will be working in partnership with Mr. Ulric, communicating mostly through e-mails and other introductions. Whatever he needs, you’ll help him with. In the meantime, please review this protocol and we will move forward on some simpler experiments. Get to work on developing protein isolates,” he turns away, returning to his work.

You just sort of stand there, confused and uncertain. But you’d didn’t want to bother him as he continues his strangely silent routine. You look over the paper he has given you. It had already been five hours at the lab but— from the looks of this it would be six more.

That’s fine. You can do this. You wouldn’t have to ask any questions. Everything was already nicely labeled with the complex formulas and this lab was only so huge you’d simply have to make like, four or five laps around it to find everything. Okay! Everything checked off and in front of you.

It’s totally alright. You’ve got this. You’re not stressed or nervous about failing or anything like that. Well, the thumping in your chest and the need to prove yourself was directly in the forefront of your mind and nothing quite settled you. As you looked down at your workstation, you began a routine that helped you submit your anxiety.

This caught silver attention. No surprise there, as it was the only sound in the lab... Even if it was being stated under quiet breath.

“Are you reciting the periodic table of elements and including the molecular weights?” His tone was strangely curious, but you could not read his eyes. He made his way over to you, seeing what you’ve collected and nodding at the supplies.

“We all have that one thing that helps us calm down, right?” Your laugh is too awkward. You’re too awkward and stressed out. Still maintaining eye contact with you, he begins a melody you know all too well, and you chime in with him.

Was this really happening? Was Dr. Nox Fleuret singing— well, talk-singing with melody, the periodic elements song with you? Are you… currently the partner in a duet? It was a more genuine smile that crossed your face and all tension left you. As soon as the song was over, he nodded.

“I am here to help you, but you must ask for it,” and then he left you to your workstation. As if what you two had just done was totally normal. You kept randomly giggling at the unexpected situation, but it had done the job. This man was simply stiff, but not lifeless. There was a whole world under the tide of his stoicism, and you can count on him.

You felt significantly more confident and solid. Possibly worse, you felt totally and completely charmed.

—

Returning to the place you are finally starting to consider home after your first day at lab, you found you had more obstacles. With a small bag full of goodies from a discount grocery store, you were given dirty looks by the doorman. Well, maybe not dirty, but definitely concerned and confused looks. He was trying to keep his face neutral, at least.

Going up the service elevator, you once again wave to the exhausted restaurant staff. They roll their eyes at you while hanging out in the back room and, it makes you feel weirdly self-conscious? Like you’re sneaking in the back way to Noctis’s apartment for a smut-filled rendezvous. Not that their opinions of you matter too much, but you absolutely did not want to give that impression.

You needed to get over this fear of heights. You needed to start using the front-entrance elevator. You do live here now, after all.

You enter the apartment, windows covered by blinds as to not spook you. It warms you up. Your friends, they really have your needs at heart and it made you feel incredibly special in that moment. They understand your fears and want you to stay with them, play video games, and do dumb shit.

You loved doing dumb shit with them. You can hardly believe you’re counting Noctis in the ‘them’ but, he’s invited you into his home and has been so courteous. It makes you feel kind of weird and like you need to repay the favor. That’s only part of the reason why you were going to make them both dinner. The other part was to try and get some info out of him on how he got into Ignis’s lab. There we go, that’s that familiar irritation. Ugh.

Okay! Time to start. You picked up this easy dinner, and now you’re going to make an attempt!

And my, was an attempt made. The noodles are squishy and the cheese seemed to refuse to blend despite the fact that you somehow made it too watery. The kielbasa you put into a second pan burned on one side and refused to vacate the pan when you flipped them, losing about one third of it.

You combine the ingredients and just stare at your mess. You hear Ignis in the back of your mind, ‘cooking is a requirement for life and another chemistry in itself, so why not pursue it to excellence?’

If this was a sign of how you were going to do in Dr. Nox Fleuret’s lab, you were absolutely doomed. You hear the sound of a door opening while you begin to serve yourself a helping.

It’s Noct, and he has the smallest appreciative smile on his face. He wave a greeting that you return.

“What’s this?” He walks over, looking into the pan. The smile doesn’t fade from his face, but some of the twinkle in his eyes seems to have disappeared.

“I made it for us,” you reply, already putting a fork full into your mouth. It’s fucking terrible. How is it this bad? Did the milk turn?

He raises an eyebrow up before a full smile returns to him, “Smells good.”

You’re not used to seeing so many teeth in that grin, but he seems eager and you choose not to tell him that this is the absolute worst. Actually this could be a test in honesty.

He helps himself to a concerningly large bowl while you make your way to sit at the bar-side of the kitchen island and just keep a neutral face with your eyes on him. He takes a bite and you watch him still for a second. He is one of the worst liars you’ve ever known, and his face betrays the truth. It’s twisted into discontent before he schools it back as he makes eye contact and just forces in another bite, over-stuffing his mouth like he thinks it tastes great. You just watch as he continues to knock back the meal you made, and finally your shock wears off and strangely converts to anger. You push the bowl away from him, uncertain of why he’s torturing himself.

“It’s legitimately terrible what is wrong with you?” You get up and pour him a glass of water, sliding it across to him and he accepts it taking a fast drink as if to cleanse his palette.

Coughing a few times, his face transitions to a deep red color, likely ashamed of his cowardice. “You said you made it for us. I didn’t want something you put an effort into to go to waste,” he’s rubbing the back of his head looking away from you with furrowed brows. He takes a second large drink from the water while you turn your back towards him contemplating throwing all the food away in weird frustration.

“How was your day?” Comes out of your mouth with too much aggression. You release the spatula from a high height as it clatters on the stovetop and turn around, trying not to be irritated by him. He was trying to be nice, you consider as you cross your arms. But why did he have to lie at the same time?

“It was actually surprisingly… really great? Dr. Scientia is a really good instructor one-on-one,” he seems to have relaxed slightly at your question regardless of the tone, while he taps his fingers on the table. Each landing of his nails meeting granite spiked irritation out of you. You could have been in Ignis’s lab. Instead the rights went to this coward.

Ugh what is wrong with you? You’re in Dr. Nox Fleuret’s lab! That was way better! You’re ready to ask more questions when Prompto walks in and all your rage just dissipates.

“Prom~mie!” Escapes you in a bouncing tone as you give him a hug. “Welcome home!” Strong arms wrap themselves around your waist and scoop you up to swing you around. He kisses your forehead and laughs off something that seems to make him flustered.

“If all my homecomings are like that, I should come home earlier! Noct why don’t you ever run to me in a hug?” You hear a ‘ha ha’ from the counter and the black head turn to look out the obstructed window before rolling his eyes and putting his face down on the counter. You feel a spike of guilt. “Also what’s that smell? Did someone cook? Did either of you try to cook? Are we all going to get sick?”

You drive your knuckle into his side to incite laughter, “We already had our helpings, Prompto. It would make me so happy if you had a bowl. I made it all for us,” you give him your best smile while clasping your hands together in an angelic beg. Unfortunately, he can read you like a book and knows your tells.

“Yeah, sure dude. I’m bet it’s the worst,” he walks to the kitchen and picks up the spatula, licking off a few stray noodles from it while making eye contact. It’s awkwardly erotic. He physically winces and laughs, giving you a wink, “we’re going to have to get you a black chefs hat to represent how much you can’t cook,” He laughs harder as you go in for a few more weak-wristed attack blows.

He catches your hands and holds them gently in his own, a strange, soft smile enveloping his face.

“Actually dude, I can’t stay for dinner but, if you’ve got time later I’d love to chat for a bit,” he’s holding your hands so steady, that you almost feel the need to remove them. He looks kind of shy and embarrassed himself.

“Where are you going? You just got home?” How is it, now that you live with him, you still don’t get to spend time with him? How have you spent more time with Noctis than anyone else recently???

“I have some people I need to talk to at dinner, but I’ll be back later tonight, I promise. Then we can hang,” he must have heard the whine in your tone and the underplaying complaint. Fuck, you loved him. It was strange to consider how your pining feelings were transitioning into just familial love after your birthday, but, it seemed more right?

You didn’t have time for romance regardless, so it was better this way.

“Yeah, okay,” you give him a little smile and he gives you one twice as big back before squeezing both your hands.

He rushes to his room shimming a portable battery in his hands as he escapes, re-opening the front door, “Needed to charge my phone on the go! I’ll see you guys later!”

You just look at Noctis, who had gotten up and made his way to the couch to unwind with some video games.

—

You sigh heavily, and make your way to the wall panel that controls the blinds, pressing the button that makes them retreat upwards.

He looks over his shoulder alarmed at you but you shake your head no. You were determined to get over this fear. When he returns his view to the tv, you get some assistance. Just a little help from your friend, alcohol. You shoot three shots in quick succession. Yes. This will help you relax! You look at the darkness. It looks back.

Okay maybe two more.

You start to approach the floor to ceiling windows and you’re so aware of the extra set of eyes on you, you actually yell out “Stop!” Before rolling your own pair and returning to your trial. As you get closer, the image of the city below seems to distort. The panes of glass aren’t vertical, but angled slightly out and down to give the best, and quite frankly, worst view.

Your breath is heavy as you keep looking straight forward above the horizon line, past the city view. Reaching your hand out, you touch the glass with one finger. Yeah! You’re doing fucking great. You’re doing fine even though you’re sweating through your shirt and you’re absolutely going to have pit stains in this so you guess that’s just more laundry.

Just don’t. Look.

Down.

A distorted noise escapes you. Muscles in your legs lock up, too flexed to relax, causing you to be frozen in place. You’re already high up but the feeling of falling is real. Is the building swaying? You can’t even make out the full size of the cars that make the scattering of lights down below, so small that they are of no use at all. A scream dies in your throat. You have no idea how much time has passed, because time doesn’t exist in this moment. Only the feeling of falling does.

Your breathing is rapid and you feel light headed, another squeak comes out of you, and you hear scattered noises in your periphery, but nothing is cutting through the ever distending pit of your stomach falling sixty five flights.

You thought night time would have been okay, the flattening of planes without perspective to give it form in the darkness may have made it feel slightly less high up.

But fuck were you wrong.

Something solid and thin is wrapped around your waist, the sound of it being tied into a knot catches your attention as your breathing refuses to settle.

Warmth hits your back as you grow a second set of arms, holding you tight and solid. It gives you the comfort you need to take in a real breath instead of shallow ones.

“It’s okay, I’ve got you,” comes a soft and soothing voice. “You’re tied around the waist, and it’s attached to the fridge. I’m also bound, and you’re safe”

You being to return to your body, no longer half-way down the building. The warmth behind you inches you closer to the glass, a hand trailing down your arm, but the other one is solid and around your waist.

The fingers force your own open in a tender, slow movement. It’s an assist, and it help you press your palm against the glass. It’s. It’s surprisingly sturdy and you swallow down another noise of fear.

“Nothing's going to happen if you lean on the glass, I promise. I have you,” and you recognize the voice as Nocts. You press your body back into him and he holds you tighter.

“Do you want to move back, or do you want to keep looking down?” The words warm your neck as your hand flexes, inviting his fingers to curl around yours from behind.

“F-Forward,” you swallow down your fear and nod, you can feel his nose against your jaw. It feels safe. His hand that is wrapped around your waist pulls on the cord around your center.

“Remember: You’re tied up and secure. I would never let you fall out of this window,” and you feel him press your body gently into the glass. You physically rest on it while you look down, confined and protected from behind. He begins to point out buildings, identifiable by the color of the lights.

A trembling laugh escapes you when he points out the university, “And that’s where that asshole Ardyn probably sleeps,” and he continues until your body finally gives into fatigue and trust, relaxing at his distractions. Your other hand touches the glass, bracing against it as he rests his head into the crook of your neck, probably with more comfort than you should be allowing. He insists you recite back the places he pointed out, and it helps so considerably you’re blown away.

You may be high up, but you were actually, genuinely, really quite safe. You feel him take in a deep breath as you finally turn your head towards him with a grateful smile, Adeline fatigue begin to hit you through your entire body as your legs give way.

He doesn’t break his promise, holding you close to him he gives you his support. He’s looking over your face with so much open concern, you’re not even bothered when your noses brush up against one another.

He closes the distance between you, and you feel yourself give into the warmth of his lips on your own. He breaks the chaste affection, and you feel like several things are clicking into place. You witness an underlying hunger in his gaze. Have his eyes… always been so blue?

He comes in for a second kiss.

His hand leaves your waist to find your cheek, gently dragging his fingers across it until it finds the back of your head, and he deepens the connection. The fingers tighten down, diving slightly into your hair and you continue to relent to his advances. Your heart rate is already increased, and another part of you seems to be enjoying this. A tender moan is released from him as his tongue tastes yours. His movements go from smooth to trembling with want. It’s almost frenzied as he continues his advances. His movements become too quick and full of too much force, as if you’ve released something in him. He shifts you so your back is facing the window, his fingers digging into your sides. He only releases your kiss to pant in and out a breath. You feel yourself falling into the void, your whole body locking up and death laughs at his new charge.

You hear and feel the vibration of your body slamming into the glass, making the emptiness ring out. You’re not safe, you’re in danger, pinned and floating. You’re trembling in his grasp as his lips being to work their way down your neck. This falling-threat is enough to kill any mood and you legitimately scream into his mouth as he returns it to yours, and you shove him away with all of your strength.

Shaking you fall to your knees and begin to crawl forward, clutching the silk rope like a lifeline.

“What the fuck? What the **_fuck_** is wrong with you?” You’re screaming at him and you don’t care. That small movement made you feel like you were going to die while claws dug into your skin. Noctis Lucis Caelum is a bastard. He’s a fucking bastard and no one will change your mind.

“I’m sorry!” He replies with a yell in turn, his hands up in the air while his body registers your full panic like mirror.  He begins to run his fingers through his hair, distorting it more than normal, “I didn’t— I didn’t mean anything by it,” his voice is breaking like he’s prepubescent but you can’t bring yourself to give him any attention, you eyes are fixated on this weird rope around your waist as you fail to undo the knot, trembling hands making you useless.

“Why do you own fucking silk rope, you fucking pervert? What kind of knot is this?” He covers distance to get closer to you.

“Let me help,” his hands get close to you and you slap them away. He does a full body wince at your action, taking several steps back while his hands threaten his hair for a second time and a weird sound escapes him.

“Don’t touch me,” is spewed like venom, and you find your legs again. They are weak and feeble like a doe, but it’s enough. You grab a knife off the counter. He looks genuinely panicked for a second, holding his hands up in defense, but you simply cut the rope before slamming the cutlery back down on the table.

Why the fuck would you cut him?

Unfortunately, he wasn’t lying earlier, he’s bound to the rope as well, apparently as a counterweight to your own on the opposite end of it. He only slipped the rope through the fridges door handle. You could have fallen and died at any moment! This ASS HOLE. You let out a rage yell and storm to your bedroom, stumbling slightly as anxiety prickles your whole body.

You lock the door, and the fear of that drop settles in completely. Sliding down the solid wood, you’re faced with what you know what lies on the other side of the curtain. It’s a black void, threatening and ominous.

You begin to cry as the inebriation from the shots settles your empty stomach into a swirl. The room is spinning and you sort of maybe might throw up. Instead you rest your eyes and try to calm down, but the crying doesn’t stop. You can’t will it to stop because you’re a coward.

You’re not sure how long it’s been, but you hear the front door open.

A muffled sound makes itself present at your door. You hear one raised voice and a distressed one followed quickly behind. You try to settle your breathing.

Everything is a disaster. What is going on. Why are you so sad?

A knock and a voice you love comes through the door.

“Are you okay in there?” You hear the handle jiggle and you slip slightly from the weight of your own body as you get on your knees to unlock it.

You look up at Prompto while he quickly makes his way to your level, kneeling himself. He wipes away your tears with quick motions and pulls you into a hug you return. You see Noctis Lucis Caelum over his shoulder and pull Prom in tighter. A panicked expression never leaves his face as he takes a step forward. He grinds his teeth together and storms off to his own room. You feel more guilt at how you treated him.

“Come on, let's get you into your bed,” he coos, and you learn this is what safety actually feels like. A concerned hand is smoothing down your hair and lets you catch your breath. An arm that goes under yours to guide you. He smells your breath and you feel him roll his eyes with his head. “What made you think getting drunk would help you face your fears dude?” He pulls you in tighter before guiding and resting you on the pillow top. Your hand clutches onto his shirt as he pulls away, causing him to stay still in an awkward position.

“I don’t want you guys to make sacrifices for me, Prom. You should be able to have the windows open,” and the guilt spills out with vino’s honesty, “I want to get over my fear of heights so bad, but. I panicked. I wasn’t ready yet. I want to be ready now,” you’re no longer crying, but small tears keep finding their way down your cheeks as you look up at him. He sighs again. Like always, he knows what you want, and he kicks his shoes off and slides his way into your bed. He makes a small hand motion that you recognize and you roll onto your side.

“I know. It’s okay. We don’t mind. Besides, we can see the TV better now,” he whispers pulling you tight to him in a spooning position. It gets you to release a small chuckle together.

A short moment passes.

“You wanted to talk?” It comes out so softly from you. Right now, you’ll shove your feelings of embarrassment and self-loathing aside, because he’s being here for you, and you wanted to be there for him. He stiffens up slightly, and you feel him rock his head back and forth in a no while his nose is pressed on your shoulder.

“No, not right now. I want to talk with you when you’re sober. So, soon,” it’s a nervous laugh that he released and you weave your fingers through his. You pull the woven hands onto your stomach to rest

“Prom?”

“Yeah?”

“I think I might throw up.”

“Okay,” he pulls away from you, and you hear the shifting of your trash can as he pulls it to the side of your bed. You lean over his body while one of his hands takes your hair and you evacuate your stomach. The other rubs your back in a gentle motion. “You’re really sweaty,” he teases as you retch more. You give him a flat look while you wipe your hand across your mouth and he ruffles your hair this time, “I’m going to go get you some water, but I’ll be right back,” he kisses the top of your head and the spinning seems to have stopped.

You’re asleep before you hear your door open again.

—

You made. Wow, really. Ugh.

You made a lot of mistakes last night. Waking up to Prompto’s morning wood pressing into you was a new experience you don’t think you ever want to live again. Because he’s… He’s like a brother to you, right? You know what, you’re not playing this game today, brain. You’re not going to question the events of last night and you’re going to pretend nothing’s changed in your friendships because emotional confrontation is going to distract you from your goals. So Suck it.

You feel your brain retort with the thud of dehydration. You hold in the heavy sigh.

You collected all of your clothes as quietly as you could and made your way to the guest bath, separate from your own rooms bathroom, because Prompto was still so deep asleep that you didn’t want to wake him. You’re perpetually blown away by how many bathrooms this apartment has.

The blinds are closed again, the sunrise red making them more ominous than necessary as you think about what your day is going to be like. You down an ebony quickly while attempting to cut through your headache. You have a good day ahead of you. Stop getting distracted.

There seems to be no sign of Noctis, which is new, but you’re not mad about that. You reflect on what happened last night, because your brain is your enemy and for some reason you feel guilty about yelling at him and calling him a pervert. He had no right to kiss you during an adrenaline rush, but you don’t fault him for that either.

Wait. Play that thought back in slow motion. Nope. No. Absolutely not. You did fault him for it and he can keep his filthy blood-soaked Caelum hands to himself.

You tear up the apology note you were scribbling. He does not get to touch you again, or ever. When you reflect on it, it seems like he may have had ulterior motives for wanting to help you. Or maybe he didn’t and it just happened in the moment. Ugh, why did you like it you idio—-

Brain. What did we just discuss? That’s right, not today. Today you’re going to the lab.

More flustered than you should be, you make your way there with your hair still wet in a slicked back ponytail.

—

The lab is… Totally empty. Neat.

Damn it.

The first thing you do is open your e-mail, because what better distraction is there? Nyx seems friendly enough, sending over some protocols and some easy small talk, asking how the weather is over here. He lets you know that— oh astrals, he calls him Ravus— is registered for mass spectrometry so don’t expect to see him until the middle-part of the day.

You do a little bit of research into his words and realize that means Dr. Nox Fleuret is playing with lasers on a molecular level and my goodness that’s ridiculously exciting. You wonder if he’d let you shadow him while he works so you could see what that entailed.

As you read over the protocol, several things stand out to you as foreign uncertainties and instead of finding your hopes and dreams made human, you place a phone call to your new acquaintance.

“Hello this is Nyx speaking,” came a formal greeting. You smile and make an equally formal introduction. He suddenly sounds much more excited.

“I’m incredibly surprised he’s letting you into my project but, it should really be something exemplary if we can get this accomplished. You must have pretty steady hands huh?”

“Excuse me?”

“You know, good at producing accurate replicates. Someone who can get the job done without being lurked over. He’s got to have a ton of faith in you, considering,” he draws out the tone like you should know what he means. You’re going to pretend to know what he means.

“Oh yeah absolutely. Uh-huh. I’m totally informed and up to snuff for all of this responsibility,” yeah sure, that came out totally confident.

“Oh damn, how green are you?” There’s a velvety laugh on the other side, and he’s able to read you like the open book you are, “Maybe he thinks you won't figure out what you’re working on, that could be it too,” Hmmn yep. There’s that familiar rage spike.

“I’ll have you know I’ve earned this position after an introductory meeting, and I will do everything it takes to maintain it to the best of my abilities throughout the summer. As the first undergraduate to be accepted into his lab for over four years, I need you to consider me as someone who can understand only the basics but as someone you can push to their limits. Do we have an understanding?” There’s more laughter on the other side.

“Well there, spitfire, you should know that I was that other undergraduate. I’m not here to make you feel threatened. We’re allies here, alright?” You feel a flush of embarrassment.

“Why are you in Tenebrae and not at this lab here?” It comes out of you in almost a whine. He deflected your anger so fast that you instantly felt comfortable. He’d be perfect to work closely with. You really wanted to impress Dr. Nox Fleuret, and it would be so much easier if there was someone else to learn from. Someone else to lean on and make mistakes around.

“Ah. Well. That’s—- Complicated? Let’s just say, I’m handling some family business as well as working on some new magic.”

“Ulric isn’t a Tenebraen name. Do you have some extended family out there? And what is your new magic?”

“Oh. So I guess you’re not dumb. I mean, yeah, you could… Say so?”

“Why is your answer a question?”

“Why don’t you do some work and we’ll see if I can answer any of your prying questions?” He’s laughing again, not put off by your over-curious mind.

“Come on, what new magic are you working on? Throw me a bone here, let me get excited about this!”

“I’ll tell you what. I’ll give you four yes or no answers to what you think it might be before the end of the summer, and if you figure it out, I’ll be delighted to go into more detail,” You inhale deeply through your nose. The challenge is ON.

“Oh no. I kind of love this. Yes, absolutely, let’s get started then!”

“Is that all you needed?”

“What?”

“Just the simple introduction? Or is there a reason you’re calling me at 7 in the evening?”

“I—“ Oh shit. This time zone difference is going to make asking him to walk you through the protocol to difficult isn’t it? “Yeah, I suppose so. I just like getting to know who I’m working with, you know?” He laughs extra hard at that comment.

“Yeah, good luck there. But for real, if you need something, just reach out via e-mail. I’ll do what I can to get back to you as soon as possible,” pleasantries exchanged in a goodbye, your curiosity has absolutely spiked.

This was the proof you needed to feel amazing. Dr. Nox Fleuret trusted you. He gave you a lab jacket with your name on it, and put you on a top assignment. You’re absolutely not going to let him down!

—

The flow of things is easy to get into. You find yourself humming along to some music while you work just to get out of the silence in the laboratory, and your dream-maker is still nowhere in sight.

Thankfully, this protocol seems to be easy to work with and you’re making tracks as you lay down these western blots. You’re dancing slightly at your bench, distracted by the music playing in your ears when suddenly a shadow is cast over your shoulder.

“This is an N of one.”

“Excuse me?” Ravus’s voice prickled down your back like cold water. No. You don’t want to disappoint him. “G-Good afternoon!”

“You were meant to make several biological replicates. This however, is a single biological replicate,” it’s stated so matter of fact you can’t even tell if you’ve made him upset. There seems to be no greeting given in return. Shiva’s ass, you were rude to Noctis.

“Can you… extrapolate?” You worry your lower lip as you look up at him. In flat, rapid procession, he explains to you your error while collecting five of the samples you had laid out. He throws them in the trash.

It sinks in your stomach like lead but you understand why he did it. Well, you do now, at least. You won’t be making that mistake again. There’s a part of you that’s deeply impressed with how succinctly and clearly he could answer you, though. The scope of his understanding must be quite intense.

Awkwardly, you handle the western blot membrane and place it into the assigned buffer.

“What was your focus with your mass spectrometry?” You ask, trying to fill the void of silence that consumed the laboratory when your earphones were off. He gives you only the tiniest flash of a curious look before schooling his features to neutral, and you give yourself 10 imaginary points for catching him off guard, a large smile forming on your face.

“Analyzing and collecting data on… some structures.” Your face slackens.

“Okay. Dr. Nox Fleuret, I have to ask, are you working on something illegal?” Your voice is sincere and your body posture is meant to be aggressive, but there’s a tease in it. Because why the hell was everyone being so secretive?

You must have caught him off guard again because you’re made witness to a small rise at the corner of his lips. That’s like, 30 points alone right there.

“I’ve decided to put you on project ‘Luna.’ I admit to holding it close to the vest for now, but seeing as you will be skipping Izunia’s class and entering straight into mine, there may be no harm in sharing it with you,” He gestures for you to follow him into his office. You have exactly 23 minutes before you need to pull the western blot out of the buffer.

Wait, hold on. No you don’t.

“Just a second,” You comment, taking some time to attach a transparent gel membrane down and flattening it with an cathode electrode plate on top. Haha! Internet research! No air bubbles indeed. You smile at your handy work before slipping into his office and closing the door behind you both. You’re surprised that he watched you from the doorway while you finished up, but it kind of gave you a small thrill.

Now you had 30 minutes to have a brief discussion. You set the alarm on your wrist.

—

“So what exactly is project ‘Luna?’” Just comes right out of your mouth as if nothing could stop it. A part of you is alarmed at how confident and comfortable you’re feeling around him already. The thing is, he may have not had huge reactions to anything you did or said, but that also meant there weren’t enormous consequences either. You might be getting the hang of him faster than you anticipated.

He leans on his hand as he studies you from his seat. You just sit and smile back at him. It’s a flat smile, and doesn’t quite reach your eyes as it’s one made in discomfort. You feel yourself growing flush under this scrutiny when he finally sits up and closes his hands around one another.

“Please do not drink heavily on nights that you are coming into my lab,” and you gasp, so deeply ashamed. How did he know? Your eyes find your lap, but he gives you no time to recover from the comment as he moves forward in his explanation.

“You’re already familiar with my restrictions, but that does not stop me from pursuing the established question. I was given a tiny fragment of the crystal, a borrowed gift from Regis Caelum himself, and something that cannot be replaced should it go missing. Your idea of creating a catalogue of crystalline structures gave me great interest, as we have found a large compilation of what I call dark matter inside of it. It is my objective to figure out what that dark matter is,” he begins to pull up several graphs on his monitor.

The complexity of the crystal is extraordinary. Your audible gasp seems to give him confidence as he continues to press forward with his presentation. Every time you take a moment to interject he simply raises his hand to stop you, and instead he continues to lecture and hands you a piece of paper and a pen to write your questions down.

When it is finally your time to speak, you begin with a theory for him, and he cuts you off as he realizes your intent.

“Theory is educated. It is not a guess, it more likened to an enlightened estimation. It is as close as we can get to an accurate summary of what will happen. Observe, learn, then observe again. We will not discuss the hypotheticals and liken them to theories. We will discuss the facts. The entire point of research is to check your data against itself,” the tone is solid and clear. A hard and furrowed brow breaks into his expression. 20 more points for inciting passion in him.

“To search, and search again,” you’re hiding a small smile as you look up at him. He shifts slightly in his seat as though he had become aware of the intensity and ethics of his statement. You, however, are not restricted to his stoicism and you are here to show him how his words have overtaken you, “I am honored to be a part of this. I have been haunted by the question of what the crystal, the source of all of the magic in Eos, could possibly be made of for over a year now. How it can convert certain things from their base forms into healing magics, and how it can make fire burn twice as hot or ice get so close to 0 kelvin. I would love to research—“ you cut yourself off, rose dusting your cheeks, “I would be honored to join you in your mission. It’s quite literally, everything I’ve wanted to know,” you hold the pen in your grip too tightly.

“Then show me,” is his response as your watch begins to chime. You dismiss yourself from his office, and move forward with everything like you’re absolutely purpose driven.

Because you are. And this is everything.

—

It was strange. Here he is, waking up to an alarm clock when he didn’t need to. The temptation to bury his head under the blankets again was real but he shrugged them off, allowing the morning air to chill him into a waking state. Shifting his feet to the floor under him, he looked down at the grief his morning regularly brought him. He palmed himself almost with an effort to make it just go away but it lived there between his legs, upright and honest.

He groans as he folds forward over himself, clutching his knees before finally making the concerted effort to stand. Dragging his feet into the bathroom, he takes care of the issue by shocking his system with cold water. But it’s terrible and freezing and he hates it so he shifts it to warm stepping out of the shower until it transitions.

Surrounded by the heat and steam, he remembers why he has the erection in the first place. He makes every attempt to keep himself from completely objectifying her— because she’s so much more than just a body to him. She…  she’s kind of become his everything. They were made for each other and it’s written in the stars he sees over the city every night. All 12 of them. They absolutely deserved each other, and she would come around to realizing it. Hopefully soon, now that they lived together. She’s seemed to have forgiven him for his mis-step earlier on in the week, or maybe she was just outright ignoring that it happened. He grinds his teeth at the one step-forward, two steps back he’d taken. He can’t help but frown at himself as the lathers the gently scented shampoo into his hair. Their lives were becoming so intertwined she’d have to see what he saw soon.

He sighs into the mirror, hearing Prompto’s words as he wipes away the fog. ‘He’s like, exactly her type dude. Let her have fun. She always goes after blondes,’ the latter part was one of the first successful whispers he’d heard out of his friend. He frowns at the deep blue black of his own, ruffling it with a towel until it’s dry. He’s not sure why that sentence stuck his confidence so hard, only to be built back up again by that fangirl— no. Call her by her name. Iris deserved to be seen as an individual.

Yeah. Maybe if he keeps up that mindset, of seeing her as a person, as someone who’s there as a support to lift her up, she’d realize there could be more than friendship.

At this point, he’d settle for her being comfortable enough to fall asleep on his shoulder like she did with Prompto the other night.

Oh shit— Was he becoming a ‘nice guy’ in the worst way? He sticks his tongue out at the mirror with a gag, “M’lady,” is drawn out for too long as he rolls his eyes and avoids looking at himself.

Prepping for the day, he looks at the surprisingly punk attire she seems to be drawn to. He finds himself rolling his eyes in self mockery as he acknowledged how her attention— her looking him over when he wore it made his blood rush with joy. He hesitates, almost going for his well-worn kings knight shirt before giving into the black skull T-shirt. He had to wear pants that fully covered his legs for the lab but, maybe just the shirt would be enough. He sighs outright remembering the laboratory setting he was placed in himself.

The reason he was still getting up early during summer was actually turning out to be pretty good. He was finally starting to believe her when she said she simply enjoyed talking with Dr. Scientia. Despite the nagging from his professor, he was really learning so much, and it was all interesting, too. He was ready to prove that there was more to him than video games and being late to class, and maybe with some in-depth conversations, she’d see it too. Shit. Why did he have to press her against a window. A window on the tallest towers in the city?

Okay, this whole thought process was over. He’s procrastinating and pining for a woman who had a bedroom in the same apartment as him. She was his friend. Yes, he wanted more than that, but he had to be sure she would show some kind of reciprocation to his adoration before he crossed that line. Because above it all, their friendship had really lifted him up over the past few years. He’d gone from hating her and her blunt honesty, to wanting to marry her and spend as much time with her as possible. He laughed at himself while rustling his hair. He’d conceited to the idea months ago that this was where their relationship was headed, if only he could get it started down that route.

He sat down on his unmade bed fully dressed with shoes and socks on and wanting to just curl back up inside it. He couldn’t help but think of the way she responded to the kiss he gave her. He touched his lips— that, that had to have been reciprocation. The way she sounded when he pushed her up against the wall with their first kiss— if that man hadn’t spoken how long would it have gone on for?

Astrals he’d wanted to make her make that sound again. He was desperate for it. A long groan was released from him as he reflected on his mistake.

He ground his teeth, ignoring the idea of leaving the room for browsing social media, unwilling to face the day yet. He felt ashamed of how quickly those thoughts brought on deep feelings of lust after specifically hyping himself up for friendship. He’d have to sit it out for just a little bit longer.

Of course one of her posts was the first of the day. A poorly framed image of her lab setting, her name in embroidery on a lab coat draped over a chair.

He clicked on her profile and began to scroll through the images. Shit, there it was. The one that really got to him. It was all anger and meant to mirror a political ad his family had put forward. An accusatory finger pointed at him from the screen, eyes lit up by the sun crossing her face. He felt himself growing flush. She was leaning over in the point, a gentle scoop-neck top giving him just a taste of what he wanted. The scolding text read ‘Have you finished your homework yet?’ It made him laugh as he began to worry his lower lip. He closed his eyes as he felt the heat slide under his collar, picturing her telling him he’s been sub par. Pathetic. He groaned quietly at the strain he began to feel in the forefront of his pants. He’d love to show her how exemplary he can be.

Damn it. There was no escaping his want today.

He kept his eyes closed as he undid his pants, biting down harder on his lip as he took the length of himself in hand. Painting the image of her shaking his shoulder to wake him up, he would pull her down into his bed with him.

‘You have to get up,’ she tries to rouse him gently at first, her fingers trailing down his arm with soft affection. He’d bury his face in her figure with a smirk, causing her fingernails to scratch at his skin. The shock of it would rouse him completely, and he’d bite at her chest causing her to gasp.

He peaks his eyes open at his phone, nodding at where his brain was taking him. She’d be mad at his actions, slightly agitated in the morning like she always was, and the thought had him pumping himself a little faster.

‘How about instead, I get to make you come, and then we sleep in for another half an hour,’ yeah, that’s how he’d reply. Full of confidence. Ready to satisfy her. She’d smile and shift the weight of herself over his lap, rolling him onto his back. He’d be made witness to the view of her, towering over him as she sat up straight on his hips a gentle movement revealing her own desire for him.

‘What has you thinking you can bring me to ecstasy?’ She’d condescendingly inquire, and he’d buck against her causing her to roll her head back with a gentle moan. Her eyes return to him with a glare and a smile with fire in it, ‘Fine. Let’s see if you can rise to that challenge.’

Shit how would he do it? What would she like? Fingers first probably, yeah. Just. Slide in and find her already wet. Fuck. He opens his eyes and allows the fantasy to project onto the images he sees of her as he scrolls down the screen.

Yeah, she’d play stoic at first but as he feels her up, stimulating her with his dexterous hands her shoulders would start to cave forward. Her body would flush like she is in this photo of her at the beach with Prompto. Fuck yes—hahhh— she’d start kissing him when he was doing well, moaning his name while he says hers.

Oh shit, did he just say her name out loud? He pauses in his motions. No, that doesn’t matter he hasn’t heard her in the kitchen yet. He was already achingly hard while his cock weeped to be fondled more aggressively, listening intently. He rubs his thumb across the tip, spreading the precome and moaning out a little.

He’d move her underwear to the side and she’d brace on his shoulders— this wasn’t their first time together, they’d been together for a while. But this was a good and healthy relationship. She would always challenge him, force him to better himself, and he was made happier for it.

He groans at the thought, the repetitions of his movement going faster. He’s so wrapped up in his fantasy he doesn’t hear the door open.

“Noct time to get your lazy ass out of—- OH MY ASTRALS” and he’s left with the slam of the door as his phone clumsily flies out of his hand.

The shame hits him right in his dick— the object of his affection just walked in on him jerking off to her. And she had no idea. He nearly bruises his lip as he fights off a moan regarding his forbidden thoughts. The situation has him so close to climax that he pumps more furiously than he ever has before.

He pulls up the finisher, saved deep in the encrypted files on his phone. The image in question is one Prompto took on her birthday. They shared the same air as she leaned her neck back and he so viscerally imagine pressing his fingers into her skin again. It may have just been a dance, but the picture made it look like so much more.

He bites her name back on his tongue while he releases.

—

“Prompto!!” Your yell is mortified and desperate, “I just walked in on Noctis masturbating and I think I want to die,” you physically fling yourself onto the counter, sliding his plate of eggs and toast away from him.

For a moment he starts coughing, mouth still full before he manages to swallow. He starts to laugh relentlessly at you.

“Dude!!” He’s not stopping his laugher while physically shoving you away on the kitchen island as you limply slide in an attempt to be unmoving, “Why are you like this? Why don’t you knock?” Once he has successfully shoved the slug that is your form away from him, he pulls the plate back and punctuates his statements with his fork, almost ready to speak. But you’re reading his mind.

“It wasn’t my fault! You had your own bathroom! I didn’t know you were using the guest bathroom,” now you’re laughing because overall, this was just a level of personal you’d gotten used to while living with Prompto. Seeing someone you adored struggle with a shit would never not be funny. Finally lifting yourself up from the island counter you grip the edge and clench your teeth. You make straining noises as you look out into nothing, attempting to redden your face with effort.

Prompto drops his fork on his plate with a loud clatter as he buries his face in his hands. There’s still laughter there, but it’s with such excess that you know it stems from embarrassment.

“I was trying to be courteous and shit in the bathroom no one used! Oh my gods whyyyy?” He’s made a tent over himself wrapping his hands across the back of his head while you make louder strained-grunting noises broken up by scattered and awkward laughter.

Noctis finally enters the room at this commotion, catching your now totally red and straining face with full confusion. He looked ready to defend himself but apparently the picture of you straining over the counter and Prompto looking ready to die was not what he was anticipating. The defensive expression changes to mortification.

“That’s not what I looked like!” he yells out in defense. This causes you to double over with more laughter, almost crying at the deflection. He may as well be glowing he’s turned so flush because Prompto too, can barely keep it together.

“It is now dude,” comes out of both you and Prompto at the same time, causing the laughter to over-ignite and you’re crying tears of joy. Noctis looks so flustered he leaves through the front door and slams it behind him.

Wiping the tears away, you look to Prompto, “Oh, was that kind of mean?”

“Neah dude, he’ll get over it in no time,” he’s smiling up at you, and you’re smiling back. He reaches his hand out and takes yours while having another sip of his orange juice. As if he thinks he’s stared for too long he looks away somewhat suddenly. You squeeze it in turn, stealing his toast with your free hand and slipping away from the contact.

“I should get going too, those experiments aren’t going to run themselves!” You cheerfully call over your shoulder. You feel relief that you didn’t get full exposure to Noct’s dick, that may have actually ruined your morning. But he’s a guy, used to living with other guys, and you should absolutely leave him alone.

“Yeah dude. Of course. Uh,” He sound nervous again. You’re not used to him having any kind of nerves around you and it makes you worried.

“What’s up?”

“Well,” he opens his mouth to continue, but he swallows it down, looking around the room with an amount of antsy-energy that was both on brand and off from what you were used to. “You know…” you lean in at his pause, raising his eyebrows and willing him to continue. He lets the air escape his lungs with a fast laugh and you realize he was holding his breath. “Let’s just chat later okay?”

You frown at him. Ruffling his hair like he’s ridiculous, you drag your hand down the back of his head and across his shoulder for a side hug, “Whenever you’re ready Prommie,” you give his temple a quick kiss.

His light skin exposes the embarrassment you cause him with your affection and it makes you smile again. “Well maybe now is—“ and your watch begins to chime your warning and you fully remove yourself.

“Sorry dude, looks like later it is,” and you pick up your backpack and make your way to your purpose. He gives you a weak wave goodbye and makes more punctuated stabs at his breakfast as you’re closing the door. You don’t like the look of him, almost sad in his loneliness. But you have a job to do.

You also choose to ignore the fact that at the exact moment you opened the door to wake him up, you’d also received a notification that Noctis had liked your photo.

—

You were beginning to feel an immense amount of affection for the lab. Opening the doors and the quiet that lived inside was still not quite what you wanted. You imagined you’d be working with several great minds, not just one from a distance and another when he had the time.

You look up across the lab at Ravus in his deep focus, moving several things around as you continued to burn time while converting some protein isolates. A sigh leaves you, and he doesn’t even look up.

Okay, so the selfish truth was you wanted to spend more time talking with Dr. Nox Fleuret. But he was so good at cutting through the filter and fluff that when you did have a conversation, it barely lasted any time at all. That is, unless you were planning things out. You worry your lower lip, racking your brain for more intensive conversation points but nothing is coming to you. The plans for project Luna were all beautifully organized and laid out, the next steps are simply putting in the work so you can actually analyze and discuss the data. But the day continues to move by so slowly in pure silence.

Why had you forgotten your headphones on your side table? It wasn’t like you to forget things but you suppose with the morning you had it was expected. You roll your eyes. It was just quiet enough to get lost in your thoughts you didn’t want to reflect on in here.

You look back at the only source of movement in the lab and watching him. He seems to wear a natural frown. Surrounded by cabinets, test tubes, and other barriers, he looks isolated in a cage of his own making. Not quite at peace, but at rest regardless. You’re matching him as a frown begins to overtake your own face. He looks so alone.

As if he senses your lingering gaze he looks up at you, his mouth parting gently as he makes eye contact. You both stare at each other for a moment too long. His jaw clenched as he make his mouth into a hard line, brows furrowing over a perfect nose, “Do you have a question?” Comes out of him and it is so loud in the quiet room, that you startle.

“How do you deal with this?” He gives you a flat look and frowns harder. Minus 10 points, “The silence. It’s isolating in here,” you laugh a little, strained by the awkwardness of the situation. “I mean, are you an only child or something?” It was meant to be a joke but, the expression that crosses him.

It’s something between heartache and rage.

“After viewing your records I am aware that you are not,” he’s attempting to tactfully avoid answering but instead he’s wounding you in turn. Apparently you had more in common than either of you wanted to let on, “So if the silence is too much for you, you are free to leave,” it’s such a final statement as he gives you a cold shoulder in turn.

You’re left standing there, dumbfounded and shocked. Is he… telling you to quit? Hadn’t you been doing so well? What kind of taboo subject had you just touched on?

You worry your lower lip as the silence stretches on for too long. You had planned on sneaking a lunch break into today, but the thought of leaving the lab now seemed like a terrible idea. You refused.

You absolutely refused. Didn’t you earn this?

He has a sibling? It’s not recorded anywhere, it’s not in any of the documents you saw as a preteen, it’s never been announced or notated anywhere. They have never been in any family photos that circulated online, no other silver-haired individuals at award ceremonies.

Is he. Is he just like you? Or maybe they cut themselves out of his life after the scandal. But that scandal was so blatantly false.

“I’m sorry,” comes out of your mouth shattering the silence like an isolated wave on a placid lake. The ripples of it are Dr. Nox Fleuret’s breathing returning to control while he looks up and takes in a deep steadying breath.

It’s another long moment before he speaks again, and you’re finally transferring the isolates into another buffer.

“What music would you prefer?” The question should have startled you, but instead it made you smile despite your sadness. Apparently he was not one to apologize, or perhaps your slight was so severe, he didn’t think he warranted one.

“Would you like to find out?” You’re attempting to lighten the mood. Instead of answering in full or waiting on his, you take the initiative. Switching on the music from your phone you look up at him again to gauge his reaction. It’s a poor tinny sound, but the electronic swing tones get the up-beat mood across.

Getting up from his work station, he exits the room, and you’re concerned you’ve upset him beyond repair. You’d like to ask how but, it seems he’s chosen to remain quiet and alone.

Wait. He’s re-entered! With a large bowl? Is he going to put the bowl over it to muffle the sound even further? Ugh, you’re barely keeping it together as is.

He stands patiently next to you, gently lifting up your phone and placing it inside. The sound quality improves, while the volume increases significantly.

“I will remedy this situation tomorrow,” He’s still standing there awkwardly beside you. Too stiff of a hand touches your shoulder with a heavy pat.

Is… Is this the apology? Actions instead of words seems… incredibly comforting and right. He really isn’t an only child. You feel warm all over, some sense of victory at getting to know him just the tiniest bit more.

As he pulls his hand away, the smell of ozone and a real and genuine spark of electricity lights the air where you two were connected.

This is such a curiosity that you’re both bug eyed and a huge smile crosses your face. You whip towards him to face him.

“What just happened here?” And you quickly put your hand to his shocked, and still raised one and remove it.

Nothing happens.

“I- I am uncertain,” his tone is cautious and he just keeps staring from his hand to your shoulder.

“You’re holding back aren’t you? Are you wearing something magically augmented?” Delighted by the random display you investigate him thoroughly with your eyes. There’s something weird with his opposite arm.

“Not that I am cognizant of,” and he looks like he’s ready to do some real science and repeat his touch on your shoulder, but you make another mistake and touch opposite arm.

It’s cold and metallic and doesn’t feel right. He pulls it away, gently touching the place you had. He has… a prosthetic arm? But he can move it like it’s real. “Does that have to do with your eyes changing color?” It’s just comes out of you, suddenly encouraged by the adrenaline of new discoveries, dance music, and literal sparks flying.

You watch him snarl and recoil, “Just work on your protocols. I’d prefer not to discuss anything else,” and he turns away, pausing half-in his steps. “I don’t want you to leave. Despite whatever just happened here, I feel that we work well together. However, I have not made my expectations known, so you were bound to cross them, and I take that onus onto myself. Moving forward, you must understand I have no interest in trivial or personal questions. If you need something, just make it known or enact it yourself,” and he returns to his multitude of benches.

Maybe one day he’d trust you enough to help him. But for right now, you’re just smiling in delight as you always seemed to while working with him.

—

You come home both full of energy and mentally exhausted. It’s been a long day and there’s not an enormous amount that you can do.

Like a playful dog, you’re greeted as you flop onto the couch by someone with way more energy than you can successfully reflect. Prompto physically vaults himself over the back of the couch to sit by you. An incredibly loud “Hey Dude!” greets you. He’s all big smiles and you attempt to soothe his excess energy by wrapping your arms around his waist and pushing him down with your weight.

You rub your face against his stomach, “Hi Prom, peace please,” and you both lay there for a moment while his foot twitches with anxiety.

“Rough day?” He idoly pats your hair down, without looking at you. But that question makes a big smile spread across your face as you push yourself up to the plank position.

“Dude, sparks literally flew in lab today. Like, I have no idea where it came from or how it happened,” you sit up fully, gesturing with your hands, “He touched my shoulder and there was this tiny shock of lightning that came off of him. I know it wasn’t just static because of the smell that lingered in the air. It was real fucking spontaneous magic. I have never heard of it before, like, how does that happen?” He looks kind of distracted, and that same edge of sadness you saw this morning is resting in his expression. He’s distracted by something.

“That’s… cool dude,” Right, you remember it's not really something he cares to talk about. But this lack of enthusiasm after his cheerful greeting has you concerned. You decide to tease him instead.

“I see you’re still in your pajamas. Phone blowing up less than it used to?” It’s a gentle inquiry, but this was… a trend after the last week. The desire to make him confront his newfounded player-ways had become a fun pastime, but something was up. You were just hiding a blanket of worry around the tease now.

“I kind of, well. I cut those off. It’s actually,” he swallows hard, shifting his feet to be flat on the floor. It’s funny how he shares the same nervous tick of rubbing his neck that Noctis does, “It’s actually what I want to talk with you about,” You recenter yourself, erecting your posture at this dramatic change in tone. You reach out to him, placing a hand on his leg.

“You’ve wanted to talk for a bit now, lay it on me,” you gently pat his leg, still half-distracted by the question of where the the fuck the spontaneous thunder spell came from, but when he takes your hand you look him in the eyes and you feel a drop of dread and worry flow through you.

“It’s kind of about this, actually,” and he squeezes your hand tighter. He’s channeling some kind of warmth and affection that wasn’t there in the past. It’s different. It’s— It’s so not what you want to see. Not anymore. You finally felt like you were on solid-ground with him. You’d managed to turn off the years of pining with a simple kiss, and now he wants to turn this around into something you’d previously longed for? Why is this both breaking and simultaneously flooding your heart with joy? This is a painful confusion.

He must see how upset you are, and he removes his hand from yours turning away. “You know what? Never mind.”

“Oh hell no, whatever is happening right now, we‘re fucking discussing it. We’ve never had to hide anything from each other. Prompto,” you swallow, you know this is going to change something between you both, and the weird limbo you dance within. Apparently, it needs to be said, “You’re more of a sibling to me than mine ever were,” and there it is. He’s upset, hurt by your words and your fears are confirmed.

He looks like he’s taken a punch to the gut as he leans forward bracing his forehead in his hands. But it twists as he sits up, like he’s trying to accept it, to appreciate it for the compliment that it is. His chest raises with a deep breath before he opens and closes his hand continuing to shake his head.

“I don’t want to be a brother to you,” he can’t you look at you in his confession, just a peak from the corner of his eyes hooded by furrowed brows. He’s attempting to use some force of will to share this honesty with you.

You brace your teeth against one another in repetition, not necessarily looking for an out, but trying to find out where this is coming from. You look to his hand, the one you so often seek out in comfort and fight the urge back as it digs into the couch twisting the fabric and cushion with it.

“Prompto, let’s look at this from the outside,” the plea comes out of you weak, and you grab his hand anway, stifling his fidgeting. He looks right at you, and you maintain the eye contact. “Because I love you, Prompto. I love you so much. I don’t want this to destroy us.”

“Destroy us?” He laughs at your commentary, “Why do you have to be so dramatic?” But his face is twisted, and his voice breaks from holding back his emotion. He heard your no.

You go to pull him into your shoulder and he resists for a second before giving in and putting his arm around you. “This isn’t fair. You know that right?” But you let him hide his tears in your shoulder and pull him into a tight hug.

“I know.”

“I didn’t even realize you were right in front of me for years,” you can barely understand him as you both brace on each other tighter, “I don’t know why that changed, and I can’t make it go away dude,” you unintentionally laugh at his confession and he pulls away from you twice as hurt. He really has no idea how ironic his statement is.

“Should I move out?” You ask delicately, addressing the garula in the room. You’re already calculating the cost of living in your head. You’d do just about anything for him.

“No, please don’t. Even though his really sucks, it’s been really great having you around. I missed coming home to you. I-I’ll figure it out,” he’s withholding more from you and it’s shattering you. His hands are tight fists on his knees like he’s carrying the weight of too much. You’re secretly relieved you don’t have to move again, but you’re still so full of concern. He’s your best friend.

You rub your hands up and down your face and tilt your head towards him. “What has really been going on with you dude? There’s so much more to unpack here than a crush. You used to be so passionate about your photography. I watched it evolve from a hobby to something you wanted more than anything. And now that you’re here, after your successful showing, you’ve just stopped,” you’re deflecting, making him address himself. But the tears had started and he’s having a hard time stopping the dam from breaking.

He wipes them off his face, dragging the skin along and for the first time, you see how tired he looks. Large bags under his eyes show he’s been hiding different issues from you as well. Has he not been sleeping? He hasn’t been sleeping. Oh, Prom. He pauses in looking at you, and you’re made witness to something you’ve never seen. His face goes from blotchy to completely red as the full body cry breaks from him. You found the wound, and it’s so much deeper than you expected. You are ready with the suture of kindness and support.

“I don’t know,” he’s shaking with his whole body now, the sob folding him over his knees as he tries to stifle it in his hands, “I don’t know why I don’t care about it anymore,” you worry your lower lip, sympathetic sadness hitting you hard. You snag one of the pillows from behind you on the couch and hand it to him, just something for him to hold onto other than himself. “It hurt so much when you pointed it out last semester dude,” you find yourself rushing to stand up, grabbing paper towels and a glass of water from the kitchen. In your rush to not make him feel abandoned you spill some of the water.

“I’ve been trying everything but nothing— Nothing feels worth it. I feel like I’m just going through the motions and living my life. I— It’s like I can’t come up for air dude. Being alone this past week— It’s really made it hit home you know?” you hand him the glass and work the paper towel in your hand to try and soften it up. He laughs a little at your action, before it’s turned into a whine. You can no longer tell if your sympathy is helping him or hurting him.

“Do you need a change of scenery? It’s summer right now, so maybe a trip? Something to relight you. Something that’s not a distraction, but something where you have to look within yourself to do so,” your running your hand up and down his back and he’s recomposing himself as best he can. He looks up and outwards before turning to look at you.

“Maybe? Y-You know what yeah. Yeah that sounds like a good idea. I could even leave tonight,” every part of you thinks sending him away in this emotional state is a bad idea.

“How about I help you pack and you can leave in the morning instead?” He nods to himself, surrounded by more of the thoughts of himself than anything else.

You stand up, offering your hand out to him, and he blinks at it, coming out of the glazed over state of exhaustion. He takes it while you lift him up and help the adventure start.

“No,” it’s so solid coming out of him, the words so sincere that you’re taken aback. “I think tonight is the perfect time. I haven’t really been sleeping much anyway. Last night was the most sleep I’ve gotten for a while,” He leans forward towards you, pulling a feint at the last moment, shaking his head.

You follow behind, giving him a little bit of distance. He seems so much more confident than he has in some time, or maybe it’s drive? You understand how just saying some things can significantly improve your mindset. You join him in his room, helping him roll and fold jeans and shirts into his bag for him. It’s not a lot, but he’s only planning on being gone for a week and he does have a tendency to re-wear shirts. You pack extra underwear and he catches you. It’s a weak laugh, but it’s still a laugh.

Regardless of the opaque cloud in the room, there’s still some sunshine.

You excuse yourself for a moment, making up a few peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and placing them in travel bags. It’s simple but effective fuel. You’ve been keeping it together so well, but you can’t stop thinking of how the sandwich represents the two of you.

You are the Jelly of science, and him, the peanut butter of creativity. All squished together in a comforting treat. But it’s not good for you, and shouldn’t be had in excess, because it will fatigue the palette. It’s simple, and just full of filler; Too sweet, and processed. Too full of youth and past expectations of joy.

You place them in a brown paper bag as you hear him making his way to the door. You hand the bag over as he shrugs the backpack on his shoulder.

“I still expect to hear from you, yeah? And you’d better come back with an obnoxiously long slideshow that we can torture people with at parties,” he laughs a little, opening up the bag and frowning. Rolling it too tight he nods at you.

“I’ll see you soon,” he’s not placating you by answering your questions. He moves his hand to the door handle. It feels so wrong not to hug him before he goes. He looks over his shoulder right at you.

“Could it have ever worked?” He asks, a bag so heavy in his hands it drops his shoulders forward.

“I don’t know Prom. I really just don’t know.”

“I wish it could have.”

He gives you a wave, closing the door behind him. Like the sun setting, the light is sucked out of the room. Suddenly you’re standing in an apartment much too large to be alone in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!!!
> 
> Okay this chapter got a little out of control so I’m separating it into two.
> 
> No more 30k chapters from me!
> 
> Also there’s just a tiny sniff of the _actual plot_  
>   
> 
> More Ignis and Ravus in the upcoming chapter but like, friendship is important too!! haha. I know no one signed up for this but 乁(ᴗ ͜ʖ ᴗ)ㄏ I hope you enjoyed a randomly charming Noctis and powerful friendship with Prompto!
> 
>  
> 
> I’m all motivated to keep this up so hopefully the conclusion to summer will be finished in a few days! *breathes fire*  
>    
> Your Kudos and Comments keep me from hoarding this and only sharing it with Daim so, thank you so much for your support! <3
> 
>  
> 
> _It means everything_
> 
> EDIT: Come find me on Discord at @elathepenn5212 if you want to talk about Ignis’s butt. <3


	5. C is for Crap! Do I have three boyfriends? [part two]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is fine.
> 
> This is all fine.
> 
> Your world is burning down around you, and it’s all fine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now for the conclusion of Summer, now with 90% more plot, comfort, and awkward sexual tension!

You didn’t have the strength to see Noctis that evening, so you lock yourself away in your room. In fact, your whole body has started to have this dull ache. Which is weird, because for the first time in a long time, your shoulder isn’t screaming out every time you lift your arm above your head. Instead, you just get an all-over complaint. Ugh. You can’t seem to clear your nose now that the tears have stopped either.

Rationalizing the previous conversation, you acknowledge that Prompto will come back. You two had gone through more shit than anyone. If he was willing to physically stand between you and your father when he was just a kid—  Well. You would do just about anything to repair the relationship. It takes too much strength not to text him, but having your phone up makes you scroll through your recent messages. Cindy, the lovely, always reaching out Cindy, is asking what you’re up to next weekend. Radio silence from your favorite— one of your favorite instructors. But top of the list, were some messages from someone you also needed to talk to. You needed to talk to him about the pictures you deleted from your socials, because  _ yikes _ . You’re living with each other. Despite the fact that  _ you really didn’t want to _ have this conversation, you were going to be alone with him for as long as Prompto is away _. _

As it turns out, that wasn’t entirely accurate. Hiding from Noct wasn’t even necessary. Apparently, his family is taking him on an impromptu visit to Altissa with no warning. Actually, they stole him away in the middle of the day and he’s already there. You can’t read his tone through text, so you choose to put your feelings of frustration into your reply and tell him how ‘that totally sucks dude,’ and end it there. Ha. Ha. Yes. Your life is so hard, going to one of the most beautiful locations in all of Eos. Somewhere you will never have the luxury of being able to see.

The instant reply of ‘RIGHT?’ Is sent back and you remember how spoiled he is. There’s the chime of several more texts sent your way, but you just choose to ignore them. It was a relief, because now you could cry alone and no one would stop you. Why did it feel like you’d gone through a break up? You’ve never even dated anyone before!

Prompto had, of course, also made him aware that he was leaving for some time. Holy shit, Noctis. Stop. Texting.

**Rival Dumbass:** I’m sorry that you’re alone

**Rival Dumbass:** don’t hesitate to reach out if something goes wrong or weird in the apartment, okay?

**Rival Dumbass:** It can feel really isolating being there by yourself

**Rival Dumbass:** I’ll answer if you need someone to talk to.

**Rival Dumbass:** [image attachment]

**Rival Dumbass:** heh, a chocobo festival. Pretty neat. Do you like Chocobos?   
  
  


You turn off your phone.

 

—

 

Two silent days go by of the routine of waking up too early and going to bed too late.

Your head is aching from the altered schedule and you’re starting to get a little nauseated. It’s most likely just from not eating breakfast.

At least the lab is within walking distance— mostly. You were willing to walk to it, at least. Two miles is nice on a pretty day like this.

A cold chill follows a hot burst while you make your trek. You feel the frustration of summer heat that shifts too fast when you walk through shade. There’s a deep relief when you’re surrounded by the familiar scene of an almost too clean laboratory.

This was something you could handle, this was order. No sticky emotions involved. You let out a sigh of relief. It transitions into a cough. You have to hold your head as the cough lurches the headache into pulsing reverberations trying to break free from your skull. Removing your hand, you’re suddenly aware of how hot the lab is, rubbing the sweat between your fingers.

You hydrate with more ebony, moving forward on your experiments for the next few quiet hours. It was a— shit... what? No, you’ve got this, keep focused. It was a mass-spec day for Ravu— Dr. Nox Fleuret. Oh man, the AC must have just kicked on because you’re suddenly freezing while sweat drips down the back of your neck.

“Greetings,” says a stack of recently ordered boxes wearing black pants.

“Hello Box Man,” you wave in turn, “You must be new here,” You have a gentle lit to your voice as you attempt to make new introductions. He lifts himself up onto the counter and you gasp! Box man is suddenly decapitated and you see a slightly distorted face frowning at you. Holy shit, are you delirious right now? A man can’t be made of  _ boxes _ … Right?

“Are you drunk?” Comes a sharp and incredulous voice in a blur of white. You shake your head no and stop shaking it because it makes it throb again. You stabilize the gyroscope that is your brain in an attempt to stop it from spinning, but its not working so you widen your stance. You keep your eyes closed which seems to help. 

The voice approaches you and you suddenly feel a hand on your forehead. “You’re dangerously hot,” Oh? Is this voice coming onto you? It’s a good voice. Opening your eyes Dr. Nox Fleuret is frowning down at you. Yeah he’s not really here and coming onto you. You’re daydreaming. This is a good daydream. Or maybe you’re sleeping but you don’t remember feeling this tired while being asleep. You should wake up soon.

You lick your lips before biting them together, pressing your hands on his chest and spreading them wide to his shoulders, “I didn’t think you felt that way, but I’m really more interested in getting my studies done,” A heavy, drawn out growl-sigh releases from him as he throws your hands off of him.

“You’re not funny. You’re sick. Why are you here? Go home.”

“I can’t,” you don’t feel stable, almost out of your own body as you lean against the lab bench. “I don’t want to disappoint you, Dr. Nox Fleuret. I’ve been staying up late to learning as much as I can so you don’t know this is my first time running any of these experiments. And it’s too quiet at home,” you only manage two laughs at the irony, but the act makes you hold onto yourself, “I like it better here,” Sexy Fleuret rolls his eyes and pinches his brow.

“Then put on music,” he snaps.

“No one is there. At least here I can learn contribute to something,” you repeat yourself rephrased in away he may understand better. A flush overcomes you that’s matched with a glaze of sweat, and he might be right. You turn and knock over a glass and it breaks. That’s fine. There’s a lot more pieces of glassware.

He grabs your wrist before you snag the next piece and you feel yourself shudder from a random cold chill. He pulls his hand away and looks at it. You look at your wrist and it’s dappled in frost. Very cool. Heh, literally. You re-brace yourself the lab table. How had this sickness come on so fast and with such fury?

Raising his hands up at the sky he lets out another exasperated growl, “I’m taking you home. Where do you live?”

“But-“

“It’s not a suggestion.”

The tone is so sharp and biting, you flinch back from him. The adrenaline spikes your stomach’s knot into releasing into the nearest trash-bin. You have a cool water bottle forced into your hands moments later.

You give him the details he needs and he starts his escort. Almost without shame he has you pulled into him, guiding you to a parking space. You approach… A motorcycle? It’s a really, sexy bike. You didn’t need to know this was his transport. You look up to his face and he looks visibly irritated as he puts your address into his phone with one hand, setting it up so that it’s attached to the steering. His ability to keep you upright while dexterously using his other hand is strangely satisfying to watch. 

“If this is another bad joke I’m going to be incredibly upset with you,” he cautions, but his grip doesn’t slacken and you feel the support of leaning too hard into him. He removes himself from being your stabilizer and you wobble, one hand bracing on the motorbike. He gently settles your hair down the sides of your head, pulling his hands away and frowning at them. He wipes them on his pants allowing another sigh escapes as he puts a helmet down over you. “Try not to vomit inside of it, please. Also, make sure to hold on tight. I promise not to drive too fast,” his tone is more soothing than it has been. It’s almost confusing. You’re smothered by the heat of a grey leather jacket being zipped up your body.

He helps you mount the bike, sitting up to wrap your arms around his waist. He situates your hands to hold onto your wrists and gently places one hand over the two of them. In your nearly delirious state, you contemplate how much larger he is than you. The vibrations of the motorcycle cause you to curl in onto him, tightening the hold as it’s just too much movement in that moment. Realizing he doesn’t need to assist you in holding on tight, he returns his hold to the handlebar.

This is the worst, why doesn’t he drive a car?

—

“I don’t know where you’re supposed to park,” you comment as he shuts off the bike right in front of the complex. A part of you is distressed that he pulled onto the sidewalk, and another part of you wants to laugh at his disregard. Seeming to be impatient, he slams the kickstand down. With a gentleness you don’t expect, he removes the helmet and it only briefly rubs against your nose. He’s frowning so hard it makes you feel guilty for existing. Offering his arm, he steadies you as you shift to off of the bike.

Turning to look at the stairs, another, louder exasperated growl-sigh releases from him. With the impatience you’re growing familiar with, he simply lifts you, sweeping you out from under the knees and cradling you in his arms like a bride to be.

The doorman sees you being carried up the stairs by your grumpy knight and is already opening the door. He actually looks concerned, that  _ dick _ . I guess he finally believes that you live here. Your stomach is swirling and you feel revenge coming on. That’s not entirely fair, you’d hate anyone that lived here in the past too.

“I will be back shortly to remove my motorbike,” he snipes at the doorman who simply nods in understanding, giving you a frown and looking a little insulted before quickly looking away. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you, but please be quiet,” the haloed angel above you whispers as the sun beams through his silver hair. You touch his face in confusion, causing him to pull sharply away while looking to the side. It only emphasizes the ethereal nature of the situation. When did he become a literal Angel? “What floor do you live on?”

You burrow your hand into your pocket, trying to get around his stomach and pull out a key-ring. “Just put this in the elevator,” and he sighs again like this is the biggest burden imaginable and you realize he’s using both of his hands to hold you up. He graciously takes you forward to the scariest location in the whole establishment. You squirm slightly in his grasp but the elevator operator remembers you, and sees your key. He graciously takes it from you while your PI gently sets you onto your feet. He’s so warm that when he put you down you’re instantly hit by chills again. It makes you curl in to lean on him.

“Not this elevator. Please,” you grab into his shirt and force him to look at you.

“I shall carry you no further.”

“But this one is scary.”

“Do you not live in this building?”

“I use the service elevator, the one without windows.”

“You’re being impossible. This one is perfectly acceptable to ride in.” He pushes you forward and you respond by pressing your face into his chest to avoid the sights around you. He sighs and rests his hand on the back of your head.

You feel the ground begin to shift around you as a shudder followed by a chill goes through you.

“How many oxygen bonds does the compound glucose have,” his voice is so flat, but you think you recognize the intention behind the quiz.

“Six,” you whisper, still not letting go of his shirt.

“Carbon?”

“Also six,” you smile. His hand re-traces the back of your head.

“Hydrogen.”

“Twelve,” and it goes on like this until you reach the top. Pulling your head away, you look up at him. Your stomach didn’t even fall out. “Are you magical, Dr. Nox Fleuret?”

He looks like he almost considers the comment for a moment before rolling his eyes. He walks forward and looks slightly confused. “This is where you live?”

You scoff a laugh and it makes you whine and fold in on yourself. Ravus turns around quick, but the elevator operator was closer in that moment. “For right now, I suppose,” you reply, but the effort of lifting your head back up was too much and you take a moment to rest with your hands on your knees. It’s been awhile since you’ve seen the front room. You look up through lashes to see Ravus noticing a few coats and boots haphazardly slung by the door.

He turns around, holding out his hand near your face like he’s expecting something and the operator places the keys into his. “Oh shit— right, of course,” you rub your head, still braced over and he bends low to shift your arm over his shoulder. It’s tragically uncomfortable to keep it there but he holds your wrist as you both walk forward.

“Wash your hands, we don’t know how contagious she is.”

You don’t know how the operator responds because you’re suddenly feeling even worse, like all of this effort in moving has spiked the illness inside you. You hear the dinging of the elevator’s descent as the momentum of moving forward on your own feet has you swimming.

“Sink,” is the only word that gets out of you as he opens the door. You’re pointing to it and he’s assisting you in the guide. You want to feel ashamed of vomiting in front of him twice now, but you honestly feel too fucking terrible to care. A gentle touch near your throat under your jaw feels refreshing as ice lingers behind it, moving your hair away from your face.

“You haven’t eaten anything today,” was stated as a fact. You brace on the sink, lowering your head down and pushing your body away from the smell. You hear water washing away the bile. You’re completely mailable now, shifting to the floor. He supports you before you give all the way. “Where is your room?”

“Over there,” comes out of you weaker than you wanted. This isn’t anything that you’d wanted. You wanted him to see you as invincible, or maybe unstoppable. You wanted him to see you in the same way you saw him. Never weak from fever and an overall mess.

“When do your roommates come home?” It’s gentle, this strange, soft voice that you don’t recognize coming from him. He’s walking you so slowly, you can actually keep up.

“Sometime next week.”

“Is there anyone you can call to help you?” He asks while assisting you into your bed. Prompto is the first person that pops into your mind and you just curl up onto your side to hide the fact that you want to cry.

You hear a heavy sigh while covers are drawn up around you.

“Rest, then,” cool fingers rest against your temple and drowsiness overtakes you in the form of a submitting tingle.

Sleep comes too easily.

—

Your feet are sloshing through filthy water, surrounded by towers of junk and useless broken things. Food that needed to be thrown out, glass bottles and smears covering the walls. But you’re afraid to touch it. If you throw it away, you’ll get hurt. You’ll be punished for throwing away these precious things.

It’s hard to move, slightly hard to breathe as you make your way through your flooded home. It’s so hot it’s stifling and unforgivable. You can feel the decay entering your lungs, guided on humid air. You feel the weakness of your young body as the years are erased from you with every step. The water gets higher, and more difficult to walk through. You trip on something unseen in the black waters, falling forward and landing on the surface, half sumberging into the tar.

The surface tension of it bares the weight of your hands while the viscous fluid suctions your head in. It takes all of your strength to pull up for air, a deep inhale of breath while the liquid slides down your throat. It burns like fragments of glass. It spills out of your mouth in a weak cough.

As fast as you can, you push your small fragile body through the muck, now up to your chest. 

The door the toxins are pouring from, seeping tar and oozing foam. A muted red glow bleeds around the edges, refracting and softened by the heat of the air. There’s a sound behind it, muffled like a loud yell. Every step you take towards it it gets clearer. Every step you take, the walls close in around you. They surround you with more useless, precious, things towering above you. Items of more value than yourself.

You take another step.

You hear the sound of a fist against skin, and the door shudders on itself with an impact.

You’re startled by the loud sound, and your courage leaves you. You rush to the second bedroom, shutting it behind you in panic. Deep breaths drawn in are too difficult when the air is hot and thick enough make you choke.

It’s so hard as fatigue settles in— resisting the urge to just succumb to the toxic pit. But you will not yield. You know you can’t stay here.

Shaking your head, you grab your only important possession, forcing your way back to the exit. As you move away from the red room, it gets easier, your strength returning to you.

You see the front door.

It’s open and there’s a silhouette in the light. The Prompto you know stands there with his mother, she’s kneeling with her arms stretched out.

But he puts his hand on her shoulder and shakes his head no. You didn’t turn out to be the person he had hoped. You couldn’t love him past friendship and now he didn’t want you to be a part of his family.

His mother listens, touches his hand, and they walk away.

You want to scream for them to stop, and you do. You feel your body shaking and trembling.

Something so refreshingly cold touches your forehead, and the air becomes easier to breathe.

The world goes white for a moment and you find yourself sitting in an office with modern furniture. Gentle progressive jazz playing the background, the smell of leather and the sight of too many plants. He smiles at you and it makes your heart beat faster.

He reaches across the table and rubs your stained hand. His gloves keep him safe and he seems unbothered by your condition as he pulls a rag out from his desk. He wipes your skin clean, and nurtures your mind into something stronger. When you look at him, you feel purpose driven and it almost makes you smile.

You’re sitting in front of the first person that made you feel like you made the right decision. It’s not a justification. It’s not validation. It was a requirement to keep living, and grow. You had to get to exactly  _ this _ place, work as hard as you have to prove you’re worth so much more than the man behind the red door ever said you were. You had to take care of yourself first, because no one else was going to. You have to accept his help, because without him, you wouldn’t be where you are now.

He’s helped you so significantly in making your life better— And he has no idea. You’ve never been able to admit it.

Ignis smiles at you, and listens to the nothing you have to say. You think you might love him for that.

“It’s alright,” his face is distorting and cracking, emerald eyes turning blue and violet. Half transformed into someone else, blissfully cold hands drag across your face while he fades away, replaced by someone new. Someone you’re not as familiar with and it makes your nervous.

“Ravus?” You ask, so quietly and hoarse you don’t sound like yourself.

“Yes, I’m here,” and this time, when the water touches your lips it feels so much better, no longer spiking your throat but soothing it. “You’re having a fever dream.”

As the silence carries on, you feel the weight of your eyelids as you open them and look up to meet the eyes of mercy. You see your new room, decorated with nothing; no clutter, no claustrophobic uselessness. The only ornaments are a desk, some bookshelves, and an unfathomably kind soul on a seat next to your bed. A cold cloth rests on your forehead and keeps you from feeling the worst of it. The knowledge that you are safe when you reach your hand out to hold his is solidified when a gloved, mechanized hand holds yours back. It fills you with an overwhelming calm.

This time, you fall into a dreamless sleep.

—

When you finally wake up you’re greeted with the smell of something that hasn’t been cooked well in this house for ages. That. Smells like. A real. Breakfast!

Shifting onto your feet you’re still not at 100%, but your stomach is fighting against you too loudly remain horizontal. You’ll need to shower after this, because you can smell how much you had sweat through your clothing. Your entire outfit feels almost crusty.

Ugh, disgusting.

You walk into the kitchen to see Dr. Nox Fleuret still there, pulling things out of your fridge and throwing them away. He holds a takeout container up to his nose for less than a second before wincing and almost angrily discarding it. It seems to take him a moment to recover, but then he just goes back at it.

“Hello?” It comes out as a question— because you have so many in this moment.

“I am blown away by the amount of spoiled food in this fridge, it’s all contaminated by each other. I do not understand how you hadn’t gotten ill sooner,” there’s a moment of hesitation, as if he realized he’s behaving like you were holding a long-term conversation instead of you just seeing each other. He sighs, pulling two more items out, before looking at you, “Are you well?”

“A lot better, thank you,” You approach him, looking around for the good smell before suddenly recoiling from a terrible one. “Holy SHIT.”

“I am aware,” his tone goes sharp again, as he goes back to the gross task of cleaning out the freezer. He shakes some chicken breasts at you, “These are four years old. How long have you been living here?”

“About a month,” you feel like you’re being interrogated, and it kind of makes you want to fight back— but you’re checking impulse as your stomach growls louder. “What smelled so good?”

“I had attempted to make breakfast but the bread further in showed signs of mold and the final egg I cracked was rotten. It’s what started this entire tyraid. I admit, I am not a skilled chef,” he seems like he’s finished ransacking the kitchen, and you’re mortified to see more than one trash bag of food, “but I noticed several take out menus and placed an order for one of the circle items. You’ve been in and out for about 14 hours, I imagine you’re famished,” He holds up the trash bags. “Where shall these be deposited?”

“There’s a valet trash shoot in the front room, where we came in,” You’re blown away. You have no idea what to do— wait no you should help him.

“Sit. You’ve been unwell and you are undoubtedly not recovered yet,” and he just shuffles to the front room. He’s been exploring, and you don’t blame him.

14 hours? You go to check your watch but it’s dead, battery run out. Undoing it, you make your way to re-charge it. It looks like your phone died during rest, too.

In your brief moment alone, a part of you reflects on your dream as you turn it back on. You find yourself absentmindedly dialing a number.

“Greetings. You’ve reached Ignis Scientia’s phone, I am unable to take your call. Please leave me a message and I will get back to you as soon as possible.”

“Hey— It’s me. I just um. I hope you’re well and summer is treating you right,” you pause, reflecting on your tone and shyness— no you kick that right out of your system. You take a deep breath and move forward with more confidence, “I miss our conversations and I hope we have more soon. Great. okay, well uh— bye!” And you hang up. Okay maybe you’re not totally well yet— Because you sounded fucking crazy. A part of you wishes you could undo your call.

You take a shower to make the weird feelings go away.

—

You make your way back into the kitchen area, your intellectual guide prepping the takeout on the counter into some bowls. He looks strangely domestic in his focus. A perfectly neutral expression decorates his face. You’d gotten him to smile before, and a part of you wants to see it again.

“So… you’re still here,” you lean on the counter and he finally looks up at you. You rest the weight of your chin on your palm and he gives you an almost incredulous look.

“Yesterday you couldn’t make it to the restroom by yourself. I don’t think you’re in a place to be frowning on my kindness,” come as a defensive bite to him. You wonder if he too, is embarrassed that he is still around. But his comment— It makes you sit up, completely alert. You’re again dying now. You don’t remember this— no, you remember feeling like you were being lifted— did he... really? “I don’t think I’ve ever seen so much color on your face,” Is he— Teasing you? He looks strangely pleased with himself. A wild grin crosses your face as you put several pieces together. Game on.

“Spending the night at a students apartment. Now, that’s bound to turn some heads,” you smirk at him and face contorts to anger. Red-alert, you’ve made a critical error. Your whole face goes completely slack. That’s it, you’re still out of your mind. What made you think he’d be receptive to playful repartee?

He slams the fork down on the counter. He’s searching for his words as his face contorts from rage, to defeat, to self-berating while he works to school himself. You immediately dismount from your chair, and go to his side as he steadies himself looking desperately down at the counter.

“You know I don’t believe a word of it right?” You gently touch his arm. He’s collecting the fragments of himself as he turns to look at you, now a deep frown crossing his expression.

“It isn’t alleged. I was proven guilty. I am guilty,” he pulls away from you, pacing slightly as thoughts and conversations cross his face in rapid speed. You’re not sure if you’ve ever witnessed someone think so fast.

“You were forced into that admission— It can’t be real!” You feel like your world is fracturing like thousands of broken pieces of glass.

He gives you a single laugh, and it feels like he’s scolding you. He turns finally looking you over completely, giving you a look you don’t fully recognize.

Is he—He’s pitying you while his shoulders wilt. But there’s a small smile there, barely discernible. You have no idea what it could possibly mean.

“You should eat,” he looks away while approaching, “regardless of the consequences of my thoughtless behavior, I will weather them. Not you,” almost forcefully, he guides you back to the barstool at the kitchen island and you give in and sit.

“This is just white rice,” you whine, not sure what else to say. You’re, quite frankly, completely overwhelmed. Over-familiar with your living quarters, he pulls down a glass and fills it with water placing it in front of you.

“Extraordinary observational skills.”

“I haven’t eaten for like, two days, I’m starving!”

“And what if your stomach turns again? Would you rather indulge in something as spicy as this? We cannot afford to both stay in all day again,” there seems to be a change to his countenance as he pulls forward the dish you would prefer to be eating. It’s so subtle, but you imagine this may be his behavior when he’s in a good mood. You give him a fake pout.

“You’re going to leave me alone? All by myself?”

“I dare say, I do not think you’d let me. Instead you would come into lab and contaminate all of our samples. You are quite determined, aren’t you?”

_ That _ was a compliment. You smile at him and he’s shifts his view to his meal. You mirror him and instantly frown at your white rice. He was right of course, eating something with more flavor in that moment would have been a grave mistake. He’s a surprisingly adept caretaker. The thought hits you like a wave of gratitude.

“Thank you. Really, endlessly, thank you for so much, Dr. Nox Fleuret,” you fill your mouth before you can embarrass yourself further.

“Quite literally, do not mention it,” you both raise your eyebrows at each other and you fall slightly apart with a laugh. It’s an unflattering portrait you may have painted of yourself, but he’s become much more human to you. The breadth of his kindness feels boundless and you’re more curious than ever about him. “I find it interesting that you should call me Ravus when you are enfeebled but as soon as you are in your right mind, you restrict yourself to a respectful and distant title.” 

“Oh no! I— I didn’t mean to be disrespectful when I was sick I—“ He just looks at you with subtle confusion. It cuts you off without him having to say a word.

“It is a bit of a tradition to transition your PI’s name into their first upon joining their lab. Though you are not a permanent member, see no harm in it. Especially after the trials we recently shared,” he punctuates his statement with a flick up of his eyebrows and suddenly you’re concerned he wasn’t teasing you earlier.

“Well then… Ravus…” It hurts a little to be so casual with him, but you’ll persevere, “Did you really help me get to the restroom? I genuinely don’t remember,” there’s the awkward sound of your fork scraping the plate as you’ve nearly finished your helping.

“It would not be my first time helping an invalid. Rest easy knowing your modesty was maintained,” You cover your face in shame at the admission. He has seen way too many of your flaws. He seems to have an incredibly keen eye for your discomfort, and discloses more details to put you at ease, “You reached out with a beg, and I assisted you to the facility. Then I simply closed the door. However, I was glad you were finally asking for help. I had expected you to be a significantly larger burden on my time. You’ve proven to be more of an asset than I anticipated. I suppose now you’re simply making up for lost time all at once,” he runs his fingers through his hair and for the first time you notice he looks exhausted.

“Where did you sleep while you were here?” The question comes so suddenly to you, you weren’t able to bite it back. He gestures over his shoulder to the couch able to be seen in the open floor plan. You’re so touched at his doting, you’re feeling a little overwhelmed. You frown, wanting to do something kind for him in turn.

“I don’t know how much you got to look around, but… There are some books you might fancy? Perhaps something to help unlock some mysteries for Project Luna,” Your spirit lifts up a little bit at the consideration that you may actually have something to delight him.

“I notice you have a tendency to mark up your own books,” He collects both of your plates, walking around and rinsing them off before leaving them in the sink. A small thank you comes from you while he gestures with his hand for you to lead on. You’re concerned he read your journal but he’s not acting strangely towards you so perhaps the stress is unfounded.

“You— You were going through the books in my room?” You offer a stiff smile. Damn you and needing to know.

“Only the scientific ones. You can never be too brushed up on your basics. I also found some of the papers you’ve been reading— and some of my older ones. It was interesting to see your compilation of notes. Clever how you nearly conspiratorially drew the connection to several questions for future projects,” he seems to have completely schooled himself back to his neutral resting ground now, but you’re growing red with delight at his compliments. You want to share the joy he’s giving you in turn.

“Follow me, I want to show you why I agreed to move here,” you gesture him along and he seems cautious.

“As long as wherever you’re taking me provides you a place to rest, I’ll conceit to it.”

“Trust me, Ravus,” Oh hey, that’s getting easier, “You’ll love it.”

—

You spend the rest of the day in the study, going through incredibly old books. His first reaction to them was a similar level of shock to yours— well okay, he barely reacted but seeing anything out of him was nearly a beacon of emotion. You pour over them together, bringing up both potential points of interest and incorrect theories.

It’s interesting how he deciphers the mislaid facts. Choosing to analyze the reasoning behind why and how they would develop their theory rather than simply taking it as incorrect. You feel like you’re watching your own mind expand as he challenges you to think in the same way.

“This is especially interesting. It’s like, whomever wrote this actually had the privilege of touching the crystal, but nothing happened to them,” you bite your lower lip as you read.

“May I. See. That. please?” His gaze is piercing, with his hand stretched out like a demand. You hand it to him and he’s almost trembling as he reviews the words.

He transcribes the entire chapter in quiet while you take another book in hand. You want to ask him questions about this sudden shift in his demeanor, but you decide to let it be.

He doesn’t let you get up once you sit down, making sure you’re getting enough rest and hydration. He brings you the throw blanket he used to sleep with and puts it over you, seeming to resist tucking you in.

The fever doesn’t end up coming back, and before it gets too late he looks relieved that you have just been consistently feeling better.

“I’m going to figure out a way to make this up to you. I have no idea how, but I really want to,” you’re smiling up at him while he waits for the elevator. He’s looking down at you in turn, gently tapping the sheets of paper in his hand against his leg.

“You may have already paid me back beyond full, if any of what we reviewed is to be believed.”

“I told you you could trust me,” you break into a full smile, choosing to tack on a wink for good measure. You’re feeling so much better.

He continues to stare down at you as the elevator doors open up. His shoulders draw up to straight and you didn’t realize they had begun to sag in towards you.

“You’re not to come into lab for two more days. Feel free to continue collaborating with Nyx for the time being. If you are in need, you may call me,” he pulls out a small card with his information on it. It looks old, almost like he’s had it for a long time.

You brush the card up and down against your palm. You know what? He doesn’t get to take this good of care of you without a proper goodbye. Before he turns to leave you decide to break a professional barrier and pull him into a hug. You won’t say thank you aga—-oh.

 

_ Oh _ .

 

O—Oohhh~

 

Yes.

 

More. Pl-please.

  
  


He pulls away quickly, but the feeling of what could be a firaga spell still lingers tingling inside your body. It swirls down your shoulders, caressing your spine, lifting your stomach to flip. It pools between your legs and you can feel the involuntary flush spread from your face down your chest.

His face blooms crimson and most likely matches yours. His eyes, only slightly more open, betray his shock as the elevator doors ding closed.   
  


—

Stir crazy. That’s what this feeling is. Just bursting with energy and wanting to leave but also not wanting to spread your 24 hour flu. You’re rather pleased though— Apparently it was Noctis that brought it into the house. He’s been texting you endlessly from an Altissian hospital. You roll your eyes several times that it could possibly have been transferred because he kissed you. That. Asshole. 

You nearly don’t reply but he threatens to ask Prompto to come back early to make sure you’re not dead.

**You:** I’m fine. Rest, Noctis. Get Better. I can’t have my best competition dying across the sea.

That seemed to be enough to satisfy him, and finally, the onslaught was over. Now, it’s time to get to work. You feel a weird pull, looking at your phone, realizing Ignis— no probably more proper to switch back to Dr. Scientia— never returned your call. It makes you… so... sad. What?  _ Why? _   
  


Refocus! Why not play a game instead? Yes. Okay— So Nyx said he’d give you three guesses to figure out what the lab was working on. You’re going to play this game with him, unwilling to let him know that you already know exactly what your project is. Maybe rub his nose in the fact that Ravus extended his trust by telling you what the project entails.   
  
  


From:  **C10H12N2O@moogle.com**

To:  **nulric@chocomail.uesmc.edu**

 

Hello Nyx!

So. I have some thoughts— and I think I’m far enough along with the experiments that I can make some guesses, finally.  

So. I’ve been running some westernblots— and I’m thinking we’re checking in on the potential different reactions items that have been affected by magic. They may carry a residue on them that might dispay reusable potential. Something like, how long it stays and if it can be recycled and re-augmented.

  
  


From:  **nulric@chocomail.uesmc.edu**

To:  **C10H12N20@moogle.com**

 

Hey Spitfire!

Is this your personal e-mail? Serotonin, nice!

And Nope! There goes one wrong answer. Come on— try harder!

(Although that’s a very interesting idea for an experiment, we’ll have to look into that in the future)

-

Nyx Ulric

Graduate Student of Biomedical Magical Studies

Lab - Dr. Ravus Nox Fleuret

University of Eos Science and Magical Chemistry

  
  


From:  **C10H12N20@moogle.com**

To:  **nulric@chocomail.uesmc.edu**

 

Ahahaha, yeah. I’m not at the lab today and I forgot my passcode for the encrypted server there. Don’t worry I’ll keep them more vague.

Okay— How about this then:

I’ve been isolating a lot of proteins, and running westernblots but Ravus has been collecting MassSpec data on the proteins before and after crystallization.

So, perhaps it’s in relation to how magic bends and reflects through the dense, crystallized formations in an attempt to magnify effects of lesser magical sources?

  
  


From:  **nulric@chocomail.uesmc.edu**

To:  **C10H12N20@moogle.com**

 

Wowwwwww! Once again, another idea from way left field. Where are you coming up with these? Do you have a whole wall of papers and strings pinned up? This must be making you crazy hahahahaha! Two wrong answers in a few hours. Womp womp.

Don’t worry, you’ll never guess.

-

Nyx Ulric

Graduate Student of Biomedical Magical Studies

Lab - Dr. Ravus Nox Fleuret

University of Eos Science and Magical Chemistry

  
  


From:  **C10H12N20@moogle.com**

To:  **nulric@chocomail.uesmc.edu**

 

_ Luna _ .

—

This reply, however, suddenly had your phone ringing. You’re surprised to see his number.

“Hey, hey! It’s got to be incredibly late there by now,” but your smile grows with confidence as you hear his more serious, surprisingly loud and, almost incredulous tone.

“ _ He told you!? _ ”

“You’re surprised?” You’re making no effort to hide your smug as you drawl out the words.

“I absolutely am. But I’m also delighted. Damn! You must really be something. I’m starting to wish we could meet in person.”

“You’re getting the best part of me over the phone— my conversation and my mind. So don’t be too disappointed.”

“Ha! I can’t be too sure of that, but I’ll choose to believe you. I’m sure you understand, I have some duties to attend to, but I’m so glad to hear he’s reached out to you. Shit. I still can’t believe it!” He’s laughing like he’s relieved and you’re starting to feel a little confused. This seems like an over-reaction. It’s literally just trying to compile the full design of the Original Crystal structure, and then, once you have that, run some simulations on how light will bounce of the internal workings. Once that data is compiled, years of data analysis will move forward on how that resonance develops magic. It’s literally an open door for what could be lifetimes of study. You’re suddenly concerned some specifications have been left out.

“Alright, I’ll let you go. Go, face your duties knowing there is more than one shoulder sharing the burden of knowledge with you!” He laughs at your joke, and he sound so genuinely pleased you feel a little more settled. A little deception may not be a bad thing— but you really feel like you’ll need to see more of the project before you can feel entirely confident that you actually know what it’s about. 

Salutations exchanged, a pleased self satisfaction fills you for the rest of your day.

—

It’s a gloomy, terrible day outside. The sky is basically black above the city, but the barrier of the Caelum corporation keeps the lightning out, and allows the rain to fall down gently. It’s always strange to look up and realize we are living in a glorified snow-globe. The torrential downpour that sloshes down the dome makes the impressive magic fizzle and glow.

It puts a smile on your face as you look up through your clear umbrella. Watching specifically the power that can be derived from understanding magic. You’re so interested in knowing more but, for now, you’re still learning. And you’re doing fucking amazing at it. Puffing up your cheeks you hype yourself up. You get to head back to the lab today and you’re so relieved as no music, no movies, and no smug phone calls can replace human contact. 

You’re probably going to try and avoid any physical contact though, because  _ what was that _ . You bite your lower lip, a part of you craving the sensation again. Smacking your face with one hand, you shake yourself out of that mentality.

When you enter this time you see Ravus fiddling with some unfamiliar items. Uncharacteristically his concentration is broken as you walk through the door and he turns to you. His head is held high as he holds up two strange headpieces for your appraisal. But you’re more interested in the strange lightness of his overall mood. It’s so rare not to see him brooding over experiments and completely distracted by… trinkets? Perhaps he likes the storming weather.

“Well, you’re in a good mood,” you can’t fight the smile that accompanies your curiosity. You’ve long since learned that common pleasantries are not part of normal conversation with this man.

“I am, aren’t I?” An incredibly small smile breaks on his face. He’s finally begun to mirror you and it’s the best thing ever, “Care to find out why?”

“Oh, absolutely!” You approach but keep a about a person's distance between you. It’s apparently not enough as he moves just a touch further back before setting down the headset on the table for you to pick up and investigate. Yeah sure, that’s not super weird at all.

“It is a virtual reality helmet. Come, I’ve set it up the rest in my office.”

“I- um. I’m going to need more clarification on how this recreational tool is used for research, but okay,” you follow him along, making a quick detour to set your bag down at your desk. You carefully pull out a small box from inside.

“We have been using a program to render out the structures in three dimensions. Utilizing these headsets, we will be able to physically rotate it ourselves in front of us, potentially noticing things we would have otherwise missed. It should significantly assist in building up the remaining structure.”

“That is fantastic!” You shift the box under your arm and let the headset hang from your wrist. Tapping on the box gently, you enter his office. Like you remembered, it is similar to his laboratory. It’s devoid of personality and personal attendance. You feel a little proud and shift the box slightly up your side.

“What do you have there?” He asks, almost looking as though he was ready to don the headset, eager to move forward.

“Oh I. Well, I got you a thank you for taking such good care of me,” you shift slightly, holding out the box in offering, “It’s not terribly exciting but I feel it might be just perfect for you,” you smile, a little rise and fall happens with your shoulders.

He takes it by the top and bottom, avoiding any contact and you’re strangely relieved and disappointed. But those feelings quickly disappear as he looks like he’s about to shake the box and you move to stop him.

“Just open it!” You put your hand on top of his, the mindless action causing both of you tense up. Almost a relief to both of you, nothing happens. He relaxes considerably as you watch him open up the gift. Undoing the top allows the sides to fold open and lay flat.

Inside, there is a cactus with a single, not yet blooming flower resting on top. 

You’re watching him, and getting no reaction. The urge to over explain the present comes in a tidal-wave of need.

“So I just noticed you don’t have a lot of color in here, and I assumed maybe you’re not in here often enough to remember to water your plants so I figured I would get you one that you could not only neglect but I also didn’t want to get you another burden that would require more of your attention to become divided but it should also prove to be an attractive decoration what with the flower almost blooming so you’re going to be able to watch it happen in real time which I always find nice and overall it just kind of reminded me of you and I really hope you like it—-“ STOP. You bite your lower lip to prevent more from spilling out of you.

“I don’t have any room for this.” He’s still neutral but he’s fixated on the plant so maybe he’s happy about it? You need to learn how to dissect his lack of emotions. That alone is a point of stress.

Picking up the plant from the box, you take it and place it on the corner of his desk by his computer.

“Ta Da! A daily reminder that you’re a good person!”

He frowns at you, collecting the box and folding it up slightly slowly before putting it in the trash.

“Why does the receptacle say ‘thrive don’t just survive! uwu’? What is Uwu?”

“It’s uh, It’s a face. You know what? Maybe I should just take that back it’s fine.”

“You’ve given it a place. Let it be,” there’s a moment of awkward silence between the two of you, and he suddenly moves like he remembered why you were here in the first place. You’re relieved that he has the same avoidant tendencies to just move forward as if nothing happened.

“So, you’re going to be standing inside this box I’ve taped onto the ground, and we must stay within the limitations. I’ve been utilizing it since yesterday, but I am aware there is a swift learning curve that I will assist you in climbing,” going over to his desk, he starts up the program.

—

Placing his own headset on, he gives you instructions on how to make it fit right and you’re feeling quite exhilarated in that moment. The engineers are creative as ever, and you don’t actually have hands in the program itself while you’re transported into another world completely. Remembering the instructions of ‘don’t walk, use the controls’ feels a little difficult as you’re still unused to navigating the space.

Despite the fact that you’re sharing the same area, Ravus is not depicted as anything, but you can see his cursor hands in the program itself, indicating where he is. You see a window pop up in front of where his head must be located in the program and suddenly the data files are shared in both of your views.

You had no idea how much of the crystal he had already unveiled, but you’re confused as you look at the formation.

“This is so strange! It doesn’t look anything like a normal structure,” there’s a bit of excitement coming from you, and you hear the same tone in his reply.

“I know,” it’s almost breathy, too quiet as the headset muffles external sounds from reaching your ears— but the microphone has the sound implanted directly there. You reach up with your control and rotate it towards you, and it spins at a nauseating speed making you back up slightly. Ravus regains control over it and orients it back into place.

“There’s no order to it, and it’s so incredibly dense— You said this was a fragment of it?” You watch as it expands and surrounds you, growing into the flat grey void forcing you to look up and around yourself as it expands into the infinite.

“Barely equal to a pebble,” and the thought almost takes your breath away. This was absolutely not, in any of your all-consuming thoughts about magic, something you thought would ever witness. This was not something you ever thought you’d have the pleasure of being alive to see.

“It makes me wonder how much it weighs” you hear a hum reverberate in your ear as you use your controls to reach out and touch the formation.

The action causes another connection to form on the sphere and you’re suddenly filled with dread. “Oh No, Ravus how do I?” But in your gentle flail it attaches to another section, causing you to hit more random buttons on the control to try and take back your misstep. Instead, it clones your destruction in a fractal pattern, “Shit! Make it stop??”

“Stop moving around so much, I’ll be right there.” For the first time his voice is at full volume, and you can hear that he’s not actually that far away from you. “It’s an issue it can be easily remedied….” His voice trails off as his hand meets your shoulder from behind. You’re achingly aware of why it’s disappeared.

The heat twists from the contact, dappling your skin like rain it blooms and overflows to heat the bloodstream. It’s a rush, like you’re his vehicle for magic, but instead of flooding out of you, it lingers. His prosthetic hand makes contact with your opposing shoulder and you stifle back an inappropriate sound as this touch brings electricity with it. The sensations merge causing a silent, trembling breath to escape as everything in this blinded state feels so much more intense. Your eyes see the crystal, while your body feels hands it cannot see. Heat so passionate it scalds the skin with his fingers being the only relief. The rush of magic is running its course through your figure heightens your heart rate.

A noise comes out of Ravus. It travels from deep in his chest, vibrating up your back and you echo it. You’re suddenly completely out of breath and everything feels too good. You’re suspended in sensory deprivation allowing you to focus exclusively on the feeling of his hands, blindfolded from reality and at his mercy.

The grip from his fingers tighten and you feel them pull the skin down your arm. You brace harder against him with your back and a second moan from his lips follows close behind. Every area of contact you maintain with him enhances the situation and you feel a very neglected part of you begging for attention. The heat of his breath on your neck gives you more of a thrill than you’re ever going to admit, and you turn your head towards him, flinching as your headsets collide and shift on your eyes.

A choked back sound comes out of him, too intimate and sensual. You make a move to find his face with your hand but you’re suddenly abandoned. The sound of his viewer clattering to the ground is all you hear.

Wait. Wait, wait. WAIT. Struggling you untighten the headset as fast as you can and look to him, trembling slightly while you hold it in your hands.

He is within himself, a look you’ve seen twice, well, three times now as he braces against the wall of his office.

“Why does this keep happening?” He’s panting, glaring at his hands. “Have I not paid penance enough?” A shaky hand runs fingers through his hair. He looks right at you, and you’re just standing there in shock. “Why is only with you?” His hand is thrown out in a gesture, open and upturned searching for answers you can’t give him.

“I don’t know,” comes out in a whisper, “Is this… new?”

Holding onto the sides of his temples he is trying to still himself, but emotions seem to have the better of him in this moment. You’re reading so many flood across his face you can’t get even a slight grasp on how he’s feeling, let alone yourself.

“It seems to be,” he rubs his fingers against his palms, now making them the focus of his situation.

You back up, braced against the windowed wall to give him the space he might need, but you don’t want to lose this position. Despite these incredibly strange and apparently inherently sexual undertones, you were just shown the first piece of the puzzle you’re desperate to solve. You can’t lose this opportunity to stupidity and the needs of your  _ body _ . For Fucks Sake!

“Okay so let’s approach this logically then, shall we?” He gives you an angry flat look a frown crossing his face like none you’ve ever seen. “Is is driven by emotion?”

“Are you insinuating I had lascivious intentions towards you?”

“No! Don’t put words in my mouth! What were you feeling in the moments this spontaneous magical effect happened?” You use sterile words to neutralize the situation. It’s working as he seems to be slowing down to recollect himself. You almost sigh in relief.

“Nothing,” he adjusts the sleeve near his wrist. 

“Okay so feelings are removed from the variable table. What else. Um,” you worry your lip, coming up with a loss for why this completely unrecorded historical event is happening between you and your PI.

Seeming to take a moment, he shakes his head no, “I was feeling the excitement of having someone else to share this with. Someone who is as passionate about the project as I am; Overall I would say I was pleased.” He’s not looking at you, you can only assume this, because you can’t look at him. It sort of makes you blush.

“So, well, I mean. You’re not wrong. Witnessing the interior of the crystal first hand was— invigorating. Personally, I too was feeling,” you laugh, “incredibly pleased.”

Another moment comes and goes as you two have trapped each other on opposite sides of his office unwilling to move first.

“That doesn’t explain the transferred sensation—“

“I don’t want to think about it, alright?!” It comes out of you like a yell, and you close your eyes tight before swallowing and finally looking at him. He’s still thousands of miles away, “I don’t want to be pushed off of this project, Ravus. I want to be here for the whole thing even if it takes  _ years _ . I know I’m just temporarily in your lab, but you can’t just give me a taste of everything I’ve ever wanted, something that blows my mind and consumes my thoughts during most waking hours just to take it away,” You’re deflating as he finally looks up at you, and you worry your hands against one another as you brake the gaze, “Please. We can set up parameters so this doesn’t happen again.”

He seems to find himself again after your minor tyraid. “I’ll consider your words. For now, let me see if I can undo what you have done. Return to the lab and continue your replicates.”

Torn by both relief and a strange sense of dread, you resume your experiments.

—

I am awoken earlier than I would like to be, but the caller’s name is not someone I ignore lightly. I recognize we have always tended to be on opposite schedules; him early in the morning, while I myself tend to activate closer to the evening.

It doesn’t matter too much when I hear the panic in his voice as I answer. It brings me clarity, easily cutting through the fog of the morning.

“Every allegation is a falsehood— I need you to know that. I don’t understand where this is coming from, or who the accuser is,” Ignis’s voice is alight with panic and trepidation. 

“Calm down. What are you talking about,” but my heart is already racing with concern as I sit up in my bed.

“It’s a small article, as if it was meant to be hidden but if the wrong person sees it— Ravus. It was sent to me, already spreading about! I’ve been publicly accused of sleeping with my students—- multiple! I feel sick. I am sick. I don’t— I don’t know what’s going on here,” It’s almost too early but I am trying hard to follow, the words catching up to me as I stand to my feet.

“What paper was it?”

“The Leiden Pepper,” this causes me to exhale and sit back down on my bed. Bile and rage building up inside me as I temper it down.

“That is a satire news outlet, Ignis. Chances are your change in appearance had been noted, as well as the onslaught of students struggling in your classes. It’s just a little fuel for people to joke about,” I pinched the bridge of my nose as I present myself as a rock to my pupil. He does not need to know the brimstone and acid that boils in wait.

“Does it matter that it’s satire? Does this not plant the seeds for more, further down the line?”

“Ignis. It is refutable in every way. You have no need to be flustered over such vile accusations when they are truly false. You will simply have to shut this down as insulting should it ever come up in casual conversation. Pull the weed, don’t let it spread and you will be  _ fine.” _

I can hear his relief, the weight and movement of his sigh as he sits down. “Apologies for calling you so early. I just. I’ve heard you, quite loudly and clearly when you’ve been blunt about maintaining a distance. I must admit, I was relieved that the prominent partner I was allegedly seeing was Noctis, because his father will never let the slander stand,” I can picture so clearly the way he removes his glasses in deep anxiety and guilt. It is like him to hide behind veiled, muted humor, “I just needed you to know, that it was unfounded. Pure gossip and slander.” I know he is actually calling for guidance.

“I am aware that it would be, Ignis. I trust you and your judgment, more so now this summer than ever before. I recognize I judged you too harshly, for your every word regarding her has turned into an accuracy so far,” I reroute the course of my words, recognizing I am letting myself be distracted, “Be relieved that it is nothing, but do anticipate a hearing in front of the board with Noctis at your side. They will want proof that the statements are illegitimate and unfounded as to not create a mess.”

He’s quiet for a short moment before speaking.

“Thank you. Mi—” I hang up, even if I realize he had more to ask. I cannot remain idle without confirming my suspicions. Everything instinct tells me I am correct.

My fingers shake in fury as I dial the number that will never change. I am unsurprised that he answers too quickly.

“Ravus, to what do I owe the pleasure? Ah, no pet you just rest there it’s fine. Unless you’d prefer to wake me up a more loving way?” I know he is rubbing the salt in, perhaps using a partner barely legal and out of his scope. My judgment was right, as this only fuels the flames of my disgust. A phone call is better because I can not strangle him through the line.

“Do not antagonize me Izunia. I am well aware you have your fingers all over The Liden Pepper,” It releases from me unburdened by protocol, a loud yell that accomplishes nothing but proof of my fury and accusation. How dare he aim to ruin my legacy? I should not be surprised that he would choose to hurt someone who genuinely does not deserve it. I should not be surprised that he has figured out just how to kill me again— the many deaths I have faced at his hands are too surmountable now.

The calm in which he replies tells me everything I need to know. He set it up, completely.

“Well then, it looks like you do have something to lose, after all. Would you say so? Ah, hmm, it looks like my morning is getting started with a  _ rising _ start. I should be going, unless of course, you’d like to listen in?”

I press my finger so hard on ‘end call,’ I may have hurt my thumb. Whipping my phone against my bed, I have to release my fury. The yell that escapes me has been a long time coming, and it is accented by my anguish, rage, and worse yet, my vulnerability.

Once the emotion has dried up and I have used all of my volume, I fall to my knees and clench my teeth tight together. I have to come up with a new battle plan. I have to become a proper shield from the blight this man imbues with his every touch.

It may not be within my powers to kill Ardyn Izunia, but the need to ruin him has become far too real.

—

You have to dress cute because you’re meeting Cindy, who always looks cute. She’s a fearless confidence monster that is either insanely brilliant and knows just what she is doing, or so appropriately naive that she can just wrap people up around her finger.

You’re convinced it’s the former and wish you knew how to match it. You’ve seen her cut a problem into nothing without even looking like she’s thinking. It spiked admiration and maybe like, 14% jealousy, but you will always lift a sister up. Admittedly, you are your own confidence goddess, but that has more to do with proof and discipline. Not… Raw sex appeal with a wrench and a yellow hat. Past that, recent… ‘events’ have made you just all kinds of horny for attention. Normally you can just buck that shit down, take a few minutes and get off to nothing. Anything easy like that so that your mind wouldn’t get too distracted. But, shit. You feel like you literally had fire and electricity pulsing inside you and that’s enough to make  _ any _ girl a little crazy.

You’re not even aiming to get laid, you just want someone to touch your butt a little. Let off some of this excess energy that’s way too distracting during what you’ve chosen to call ‘awkward hours’ at lab. Because it was awkward now, like something’s in the way of having a smooth and flowing conversation and you  _ hate it.  _ Silent moments used to mean you both were just focusing.

Now it means… well. You’re not sure but you’ve definitely woken up more than once with shirtless Ravus on your mind. Because what  _ would _ his shoulder look like? How high up does that magical arm go? The best one was when you were sandwiched between both Ignis and— Alright no— Stop.

Holy shit, stop. No wondering about Adonis belt!! Aughhh!

_ But what if Ignis is also cut? You’ve hugged him he felt pret———- _

You’re going to scream if you can’t just force these thoughts into nothing. Admittedly, you already did, but at least that scream was just into a pillow while you wallow in the land of sexual frustration.

Okay, deep breaths, and a change of pace. It’s time to pick out something that makes you look like you’re totally legit and hot hanging out with the Grease Goddess Cindy. A cute red crop top that falls off the shoulder, tight on the waist and draped fabric in the front. You can use this excuse to wear some low waisted shorts you haven’t put on in who knows how long, but you’re relieved they still fit. And you know what? You’re going to wear your wicked great commander boots anyway, with some above the knee socks because quite frankly, you’re down with looking a little bit rock-and-roll. A few accent pieces and some natural wow-your-skin-is-so-dewie and your-eyes-are-so-bright makeup and you’re good to go.

Perfect! 

“Howdy friend!” Is called out as soon as you enter the main thoroughfare. Adamantoise Boulevard is known for having some of the most fun shops and eateries in Insomnia, and you two chose to meet right in front of a particular favorite: the renown ice-cream cafe ‘Bean there, Brew that’. The name always gives you a good, sensible chuckle. Puns were, after all, the highest form of humor. (Especially because you were quite bad at them.)

You’re unsurprised to feel Cindy pull you into a hug before she looks you over, “Very nice, yer too cute ta boot today,” and she flicks your nose with the tip of your finger. You smile feeling both shy and oddly powerful at the compliment.

“It’s good to see you too, Cindy! Sorry I’ve been hard to get ahold of recently, I’ve been working really hard, almost full time at a lab this summer,” She gives you the appreciative squee of someone who knows that’s what you wanted.

“Listen, I’m just chuffed for ya and I want to hear all about it, but I need to tell you that there is someone in this cafe that looks so much like ya, I almost gave her a hug. I mean, I think you two are wearing the same shirt? You should go meet her,” there’s a touch of mischief on her face as she pulls you into the cafe by your hand, eager to make friends with everyone.

She points her out, sitting down at a table on her phone, playing a little with her hair and chewing her lower lip in the  _ exact way you do _ . Her hair is even styled similarly—it’s the same color and length, and yes, that was your same shirt in pink.

_ What the fuck! _ Wow!!! The world is so incredibly small. Cindy is right, you  _ do _ want to meet her. Her nose is a little different, and her eye color isn’t quite the same but  _ damn. _

“Alright, I’mma let you two get acquainted, but this line sure is a long so I’ll go get in it. What flavors would you care for?”

“Chocolate and, if they have it today, pistachio would be lovely! Thank you Cindy,” you pull out some funds for a double scoop, and a few extra gill for tip.

You walk over to the woman who undoubtedly has her partner with the task of standing in line. You try to think of something clever, but the shock of seeing someone who could be your fraternal twin has you all thrown off, “Hey there, are we, by any chance, related?”

Her mouth drops open at the sight of you, looking you over she while you do the same. “Holy fuck-balls. Are we? And my goodness, you are just divine for the eyes. I feel like I’m looking into a mirror,” She touches your face and squishes your lips together a little bit.

Oh no, you hate her already for touching you without permission, and literally  _ squeezing your face _ so she can turn it back and forth. As a way to break the contact, you hold out your hand in offering while the two of you make introductions. Apparently, she teaches Zumba classes at the gym facility a lot of students and instructors work at, which caused a re-connection for her and ‘her super hot, like wow I’ve never seen a mouth so fine,’ date for the day. She’s divulging an incredibly crude amount of detail into her escapades with other men, but has apparently picked this one as her favorite because of his huge dick.  Wow. You just, have literally nothing to share with this woman, nor any commonalities. You suppose you like working out? This conversation is too personal and too awkward. You need to bail, this was a mistake.

You point to Cindy to let her know that’s who you’re here with, trying to make an escape as all attempts at casual discussion are dropped to base-interaction. You’re sure she’s not a bad person, just maybe… not someone you would have interacted with if she wasn’t the older mirror of yourself?

“Yeah, Mr. Whale Dick is right over there, getting something sweet for this sweet,” she gestures with laugh, pointing over her shoulder not even bothering to look. You decide you too, don’t need to see who she’s gesturing at. She didn’t hear your attempt to retreat, and she just  _ keeps going _ , “we’re just casual it’s no big deal. You know, no kissing only touching. Lots of touching. Heh. But he’s such a hottie so there’s a lot of pleasure in it,” You feel so conflicted. You’re proud of her because she knows what she wants, but when you see the app on her phone she’s browsing a dating service with a ton of new messages.

As long as she’s being honest with the guy… She says it’s casual at least, then you suppose it’s fine, “He’s super honest too, which is nice for a change. No bullshit about how we’re totally going to fall in love and make like, 400 babies. Apparently he’s trying to get over someone, so he’s melancholy. And he’s super vigilant about protection which isn’t something I find very often so that’s another plus in his favor. It’s just honestly is the absolute best, because he goes at it like he’s never going to fuck again. Look at these bruises! He’s such an animal! I’ve never been fucked so aggressively in my life,” She points to her shoulder, apparently wanting the claims to be fully on display for the world to see. You find it strange that they are only on the back of her neck and shoulder but try not to let that thought linger too hard. “It was just supposed to be a blow job, so I had to convince him that it was super okay to fuck me. Heh, once he started it’s been like, non-stop fun. I don’t even know what I’m doing that turns him on so much, and most of the time it’s a random rendezvous late at night. It’s the best! Well, he doesn’t like it when I make noise during sex but that doesn’t really bother me. I mean, he suggesting this place after I asked him if he would be too ashamed to be seen with me in person, so he’s also easy to manipulate which is perfect. Gentleman are such a meal ticket” She’s laughing, gently biting her finger while still swiping on the app.

You’re looking at the ground, eyes wide open just trying to make a hole appear so that you leap down into the unknown which would undoubtedly be better than this conversation. Or maybe you’re just waiting on Cindy to rescue you. Honestly, what kind of person tells you all of these deeply personal details after ‘hello’? Does she assume that because you look and dress similar you’re the same person? Are you… A prude?

You catch sight of some shoes stopping the table and you’re  _ absolutely relieved _ because it must be the whale dick in question. They look… Strangely familiar though.

You look up. Your mouth opens with so much shock and space that a Roc would find it to be a comfortable cavern to reside in.

“Ignis?” One of his hands cracks the ice cream cone he was holding, and he just keeps staring at you in absolute shock.

“Oh so you two know each other? That’s neat,” she gets up, taking the broken cone from his hands while he still just stares at you like you’re not real, “Don’t worry Papa bear, you know I can handle a mess,” and he finally looks to her while she licks up… the entire side of the ice cream cone. It kind of delights you that it absolutely grosses him out.

“It’s good to see you,” his voice comes out too high-pitched and you get up from what you can only assume is going to be his spot. He’s making no effort to sit down and now you two are just standing making intense eye contact. He looks… So guilty, like you’ve discovered a dirty secret. It’s weirdly flattering though, to know that you might be his type— Holy shit! Horny brain, Bad! You’ve gotta shut down. He’s your fucking teacher and friend!

You’re kind of repulsed at the thought that she was so willing to share so much about him to a perfect stranger. You probably look like Ravus with your frown pulled down so deep.

“So how do you two know each other?” At least she seems either oblivious to the awkwardness or doesn’t care. It legitimately might be both.

“She’s a student of mine,” the smoothness comes back, apparently recovered from shock as you step out of the way while he sits down. You notice he’s eating the same flavors of ice cream that Cindy is getting for you.

“He’s my favorite—“ You cut yourself off when you realize he’s not adding any adjectives to his response so why should you? “He’s an instructor of mine,” you haven’t fully recovered from the shock of it all, and for some reason you feel  _ angry _ . Here’s Ignis, going out on dates, not calling you back, taking  _ Noctis _ into his lab— What the fuck?

“Did you hear about this one’s scandal? Oh, it’s so juicy,” she puts her hand over Ignis’s, or at least attempts as he pulls his hand away, putting it under the table.

You cross your arms, suddenly feeling defensive of him, regardless of your lack of interaction this summer, “He’d have a scandal like two electrons would pair with each other, but go ahead, spread the slander,” he smiles a little at your statement, before his eyes torn between the two of you. Like he just realized something. He’s looking more and more distressed by the moment.

“I’d really prefer not to broach that topic,” you know this voice. This is a warning tone. He’s used it on Noctis when he fell asleep in class. Wow, it almost feels weird that you know what someone is thinking again. It kind of warms you up. It may also be the fact that she absolutely doesn’t see the caution signs.

“There was an article published about him fucking all of his students. Have you been exposed to the monster-cock too?” She’s laughing at her incredibly off color joke and you feel your respect for Ignis plummet. Not because of the obvious false statement, but because he’d choose to spend his free time with her. And not with  _ you. _

“Could you not say such things? It was a satire article in incredibly poor taste with not truth to it at all,” The hand holding his own cone shows instability in his control, but she seems completely unbothered.

“Oh come on it’s not like she’s never imagined you coming inside her— You saw how she looked at you when you walked over. Let her build the fantasy that her hottie of a teacher may one day fuck her,” she does a lap around her ice cream with her tongue. You’re so done. You’re absolutely done.

“Please. Desist. Your speech.” Ignis is seeing red and you don’t blame him. He’s struggling to maintain some semblance of calm.

“Aww, Papa bear are you mad? I guess I’ve been a bad girl, what are you going to do about it?” Oh. My Astrals. This. This is a thing between them. She gets him all riled up and then they—.

“Oh Howdy Dr. Scientia! Here you go sugar, got your ice cream,” you take it, using this as the perfect excuse to dash away, “Isn’t it just such a shock that these two look so similar?” You hook arms with Cindy and begin to make your escape, unwilling to witness any more character assassination of your favorite instructor. There’s no time for an answer.

“We—uh. We have to go. Bye,” you’re stiff in your shoulders as you pull Cindy away with you just exiting the building with her as fast as your feet will carry you.

“You don’t have to—Apologies for—“ and the door closes with a jingle.

Now all you can think about is how apparently Ignis fucks like he’s an animal and has an extremely large dick while you lick up the sides of a comically high piled ice cream cone courtesy of Cindy. Gods above and below, you’re apparently his type to— at least physically. Because you’re never going to sit there and make him uncomfortable with the ease she has. You’re relieved at the brainfreeze you get from your panic eating, because at least it’s cooling you off.

—

If there’s one thing Cindy is amazing for, it’s being an absolute distraction. She quickly got your mind out of the gutter with some hilarious antics and stories of her near-miracle work of engine revitalization. You’re on your way to a museum of engineering marvels, you let her pick the place, while you tell her about your lab experiences— but apparently Ignis isn’t the only one who’s character you’re calling into question.

“Oh,” is her immediate response to you talking about Ravus. Like she’s suddenly deeply uncomfortable.

Before you enter the promenade, she stops you in your step. There’s a strange flood of concern coloring her face.

“He hasn’t… How do I make myself delicate..? Gone out of his way to ‘make you comfortable’ has he?” She’s crossing her arms now, like she’s ready to fight him. You have no idea where this is coming from, as you’ve only been singing his praises.

“I’m honestly not sure if we’re having the same conversation right now. He’s been… Better than I could have hoped for? Incredibly fair, and direct to the point of being intimidating sometimes, I’ll give him that but, yeah. No, I would say I am honoured to have even a temporary place in his laboratory.”

“That’s not quite— hmm. I just, I feel the need to warn you off of gettin’ too close like you have with Dr. Scientia, because well. I know first hand who the student was that he had that affair with,” she’s frowning, rolling a rock under her boot.

“Cindy, you’re too young to have been— He didn’t? Not with you did he?”

“No! Don’t be ridiculous! It was— well shucks, it was my sweet Aranea,” she’s rubbing the back of her neck seeming to fluff up her hair, and you just feel winded.

“Wait. What?”

“I mean, it absolutely happened. DNA samples collected and everything. He wouldn’ be here if she hadn’t chosen to argue to let him keep his job. It was a weirdly big fight against the board and everything. They wanted to know why she stepped forward if she wasn’t tryin’ to get him fired. Just a big mess of a thing. He’ll never be tenured because of it, and it’s a permanent scar on his record. I mean, the papers didn’ disclose her name, but I promise ya that it was her. So don’t… let yer self get pulled into that kind of a mess, alright?”

“I— okay, that wasn’t in my plans I assure you but. Wow. This is a lot to think about,” 

“I mean, the situations awful complicated, but I jus’ wanna make sure yer lookin’ out for number one, ya know?”

“I… Appreciate you letting me know Cindy. I had always assumed— because he kept his job that it wasn’t… That it just wasn’t real. Fuck.” You remember his face when he told you he was guilty and you defended him. It was pity. It was absolutely pity.

“Now, well, come on. He is still good at what he does, so long as he doesn’t make an attempt at ya. Like I said it’s over-complicated. Just, remember he has that in him, ya hear? Let’s get yer mind off of it for a bit, there’s a whole world of wonders waitin’ just inside that building!”

You can hardly appreciate Cindy’s endless delight at the inner workings of these machines because your brain is too fixated on the fact that Ravus really did sleep with his student. And his student was Aranea.

There’s a weird, twisted part of you that feels a little jealous, and kind of wants him to break for you too. But that’s  _ insane _ . You— You’d have to. You’d have to want to—is it suddenly hot in here?

No,  _ no, no,  _ **_no_ ** . Absolutely  _ not _ brain. Calm down, get some water, and remember that  _ learning _ from him and  _ working alongside him _ is why you’ve worked this hard.

—

You’d finished wrapping up some experiments in the lab, doing some of the most awkward games of ‘let’s not touch ever again,’ dance moves around each other. It doesn’t flatten the pride that swelled in you when he told you, “You’ve done better than I expected, even with a few minor inconveniences. I look forward to seeing how you push yourself in more advanced studies this upcoming semester.”

Yeah, you basically died from the joy you felt. A complicated situation with Aranea or not, you were absolutely driven to get it know more about his beautiful mind. And, probably get to hear more of the story from her, too. Because it was so strange that in one breath, Cindy both defamed him and defended him and you’re just so uncertain about what that could possibly mean.

When you do come home from lab, there’s two cute, delicately wrapped presents waiting for you on the counter. Both of them in long, narrow boxes. Curious, you walk over to check it out.

One has your name on it, the other has Promptos. Oh- Noct’s back.

_ Oh. Noctis is back. _ Your mind sighs out with a touch of irritation. He gotten you a gift while abroad and you’ve got to have the most awkward conversation with him. Potentially about not jerking off to you, but also understanding why he did. That he may be hyper-focusing on you because you’re living together and you’re not mad at him for doing it because it’s natural, but there’s a bunch of porn out there so maybe he should just focus on that instead…

A door closes and you catch him rubbing a towel across his head as he comes out of his room. Fresh and blissfully clean smells emanate from him while he gives you the biggest grin you’ve seen from him in a while.

“Welcome home,” you lift up your eyebrows at him, and you can’t fight the contagious nature of that grin. He steps toward you with a small bounce in his step.

“Thanks. It’s nice to be back. Did you- uh. Did you see that I got you something?” Oh man, this guy is so hopeful that you kind of deflate.

“I really wish you wouldn’t have.”

“I wanted to. I know I’ve been a little weird lately but, I hope this makes up for it. I— I wanted to apologize for well, what I did and possibly getting you sick. And I wanted to do it in person, too.” You lift up the box and shake it by your ear. It doesn’t make a lot of sound. You have no idea what it could be.

“So this is a guilt purchase. You shouldn’t have been thinking of me while you were on vacation, Noct. This isn’t necessary.”

“I was sick for almost the entire trip, so it didn’t really feel like much of a vacation,” his shoulders slacken a little bit.

“What do you mean? It was only like, a 24 hour bug that you gave me.”

“That’s good to hear that’s all it was for you. I was sick for a week and a half. It was the absolute worst,” he looks haunted and you remember that he was in the hospital while sending you his onslaught of texts. He looks like he might have lost a little weight too. Perhaps his parents weren’t over-reacting and over-protective, “Maybe we didn’t have the same thing?”

“Apparently not. I’m a little surprised though. Also— We’ve got to keep better track of what is going in and out of our fridge. Some of the stuff in there was super gross.”

“Yeah I noticed it was cleared out when I got back,” he’s awkwardly shuffling now, “So are you going to open it?”

“What if I don’t want to?”

“Come on, I literally just got back and I’m exhausted. Please don’t fight me on this right now.” He’s begging you and it weakens your resolve.

Taking pity on him, you quirk one eyebrow up and lift the box. Digging your nails in, you quickly rip away the paper with ease. It’s a long turquoise box with the pleasantly scripted “Tifa & Co” scribed across the top and your eyes bulge. Noctis is watching your face while worrying his lip and you just keep looking between the two before opening up the box and seeing the most disgustingly perfect necklace you’ve ever seen. You hate him.

How dare he?

It’s laid out with a delicate white gold chain that looks like it would rest right at the collarbones. An asymmetrical pattern in diamond makes you sick you love it so much.

You look at him with all of the rage you’re feeling and he jumps to his own defense.

“Hang on, I know it’s extreme,” he’s holding his hands up in front of him as if he can feel how ready you are to hit him, “But My dad he— He wants to meet you. And I don’t want you to feel out of place at all. They are a little extreme and old fashioned so. I mean, my mom helped me get it custom made and I really, I thought you would like it and—” you snap the lid closed after looking back and forth between Noctis Lucis and the box one more time.

“I don’t want to meet your fucking dad. I barely want anything to do with _you_ and that’s only because I can compartmentalize you outside of your family. I **never** want another present from you, _Caelum_ ,” Oh no. That may have been too honest. You seem to have landed a critical blow, because he looks like you did hit him. You suddenly feel guilty, which makes you more upset.

“I— He,” He’s leaning on the edge of the counter for support, looking completely defeated as if this went the opposite way that he imagined, “He wants to know who I’m living with. That’s all,” His messy, partially wet hair is blocking you from being able to read his face at all and you’re just so  _ angry.  _ And you feel bad about being in such a rage which makes you  _ more _ frustrated.

“There’s a New.  **_Movie_ ** . That Might be  **_Fun_ ** . To  **_Watch_ ** , You Know.  **_Together_ ** . If You Are. Up. To. It.” Your tone hasn’t smoothed out at all, with your arms crossed in front of you but he looks at you with those deep blue eyes and your shoulders soften just a little bit, to the point where you have to look away. You’re collecting your breath in an attempt to calm down.

“Okay,” his voice comes out so quiet, but you recognize there is a hidden smile behind that tone and you are satisfied with your diversion.

“I’m going to go make us popcorn, you go sit down. You’ve been traveling all day you need to learn to take care of yourself,” You make your way to the cabinets and just slam them open and closed. How dare he be so considerate. His  _ dad _ wants to meet you? Who the fuck is this guy? Why did he think you’d agree to that? Moreover, if you wanted access to this building you would probably  _ have  _ to have dinner with his family. Ugh. UGH.

You take the popcorn over to the couch and plop down next to Noctis causing him to shift in his seat from the movement. Resettling in closer to you, he spreads a blanket out over your laps and feet. His thoughtfulness just irritates you more. You rip the bag open too aggressively and the popcorn spills all over the blanket and he laughs like he predicted that was going to happen. He gently takes the bag from you and pours the rest of it out on your laps.

“Problem solved,” He smiles a little, shyly looking at you as you just sit there fuming. Taking back the bag you crumple it into as small of a ball as you can and throw it into a random corner. You grab the universal remote off the cushion next to you and put the movie on choosing to stare forward rather than give in to any of his sweetness.

Slowly, you begin to relax. Noctis leans on you while the show plays and you realize halfway though that he’s fallen asleep. You turn the volume down slightly, but you’re not sure if it would wake him up anyway. Then, shift slightly, putting your arm around him so that he can get more comfortable which wakes him up just enough to burrow in.

He’s such a little shit.

—

The door opens near the climax of the movie and it makes you jump, turning your head over your shoulder with a huge smile.

“Hey, I didn’t expect you to be up,” He gives you a huge grin, setting his bag down gently.

“Prompto~!” you reach your arm greedily over the back of the couch saying his name in a loud, breathy whisper. You’re not able to move like you’ve got a cat on your lap. He seems to understand exactly what you want and he walks over to you, leaning down and giving you a kiss on the top of your forehead. You just beam up at him, while he looks weirdly at Noctis now asleep in your lap with popcorn covering most of his face. He looks with extra judgement at your hand on his shoulder.

“That’s not fair, where’s my spot?” He teases, and you realize things are more back to normal.

“I want to know how your trip went,” you continue to whisper, patting the vacant seat next to you. For once, he walks around and settles in on your opposite side.

“We can talk about it more in the morning but… It went really awesome. Like. Really, really good dude. I legitimately think it may have been one of the best decisions of my life,” He’s burrowing his head into your shoulder and you can feel the heat resonating from him. He’s  _ blushing _ . He’s with-holding and there’s more to that loaded statement. You put your arm around him and he holds your waist above Noct’s head. He smells terrible, like he’s been non-stop camping, and you can’t fault him for it. “Can we restart this? I’ve wanted to see it.”

“Yeah of course, dude,” you’re all smiles and Noctis shifts slightly as if Prompto’s stage whispering is too loud. You absentmindedly rub his shoulder to settle him back in.

You play the movie from the beginning and the empty apartment suddenly feels like a home again. You love Prom, and a part of you may even be starting to love Noct, but you’ll never say it out loud. If only you weren’t pinned between the two boys laying down over you. It makes you smile. You realize you won’t be able to get even a decent bit of rest sitting up vertically like this but, you wouldn’t trade the warm feelings it brought on for the world.

—

Five days. You have five days before the next semester. You’re still waiting on the paperwork that gives you permission to skip a class and join Ravus early.

You’re at a loss of what to do, as Dr. Nox Fleuret had volunteered to handle it, leaving you without knowing how to move forward from this point. The possibility of this accelerating your plans forward by a year just makes you  _ anxious _ .

An unexpected phone call makes you jump slightly in your seat, and you smile super huge seeing the name that crosses the screen.

“Hello Ravus!” It comes out too loud and too excited. He does not match you in any way.

“I have not seen your name appear on my roster. Have you not registered?”

“I— You said you would give me paperwork first?”  _ RIGHT?! _ There’s a moment of silence that could very well be for your soul leaving your body.

“Of course. I have half the paperwork done, I’m simply waiting on one last signature. However, you should have registered for it at the beginning of summer so that you could be part of the queue. Did we not discuss this?”

“No. We— we did not,” Your voice feels so small and fragile. Did you seriously fuck up this bad? You hear a heavy and slightly irritated sigh come out of him.

“No need to stutter. Just sign up now. I’ll see what I can do to get things handled on my side. If you fail to get in, you’ll be early on in the list for next year so this won’t be an issue.”

Next  _ Year?!  _  No, damn IT! You had already begun re-organizing your plans.

“Well, get on it already,” he replies to your silence.

“Yes of course, I’ll let you know as soon as I get accepted,” and he hangs up on you. You deflate for only a moment, opening up your laptop and signing up just like he requested.

The class is apparently no joke, and his reputation must fully proceed him. You’re number 89 on the waitlist. Holy shit— How can you  _ fix this? _

**You:** Ignis. I need you. Please, can we meet somewhere?

You watch the three bubbles of text come up and disappear at least four times before you get a simple reply. You watch him struggle for ten minutes to find three words.

**Ignis Scienteachya:** Name the location.

—

You choose to meet him at his office, aware of his sensitivities to the article you’ve now read. The vulgar way it was written has you wondering if your Zumba twin had anything to do with it. And of course, you had to show it to Noct, aka, captain of The Buttsexington, the poorly photoshopped yacht that Ignis held him in as the main image for the online article. It had gotten a pretty good laugh out of you and Prom, followed by a loud ‘Thanks. I hate it,’ from Noct.

Knocking three times, you don’t get the standard answer. In fact, you look at the seam under the door and realize the lights aren’t on. He’s not here yet?

“Afternoon,” is yelled at you from a bit of a distance back, long strides making their way with a rushed pace. Apparently he wasn’t in his office like you assumed he would be.

“Hey!” You call out, shrugging your shoulders lightly as you look to the ground in an attempt to avoid looking at him. Because, well. He’s looking… Extra fine today and you’re almost too stressed to put your natural filter on.

He stops in front of you, and our eyes follow his hands as he straightens out his outfit, the button popped a little low on his coeurl patterned shirt. His hair is almost disheveled in the way it’s swept up and back. It’s as if he had recently gotten out of the shower and didn’t have the time to properly style it. The mess looks terribly good on him. When he finally stills by the door to unlock it, you’re hit with one of the most pleasant smells you could imagine.

“Oh man, what is that smell?” The words come out unfiltered, as if it was the only thing on your mind. Because it is and it’s a little all-consuming. The scent follows him into the office and you join him from behind. He shuts the door behind you, hesitating on the lock before leaving it alone and sitting behind his desk.

“Well now, is that a good thing or a bad thing?” he smiles up at you, a small dusting of color on his cheeks. He looks like he’s ready to receive judgement.

“It’s an amazing thing,” you nod at him. A sweeping smile sets across your face to encourage one from him.

It works and you’re given a chuckle followed by a deeper color change on his face. He gestures to the seat in front of him that you take with too much comfort. He looks you right in the eyes and you’re struck by him. Why are you here again? The words ‘ _ feel what it’s like for him to come inside you,’  _ surface for no reason what-so-ever and you feel hot. It’s so hot in here— It must be the sun. Yes. Absolutely you’ve got that noon day heat with all those plants making this into a little green house. He watches you as press your knees together in a flex, and it makes you look at the hands you have resting on your knees.

“What is it that you,” he clears his throat but his voice doesn’t lift like it normally does, “Need from me?” His eyebrows are lifted only just slightly, mouth gently open at rest.  You realize he’s unsure of what your text could have meant. You haven’t needed a lot from him recently, which probably spikes the curiosity.

“I just want to say, that I assumed you’d be in your office and I’m sorry that you had to go out of your way to meet me. I didn’t mean to put you out. You could have told me you weren’t close by,” You’re giving him a weak smile now, pulling at the collar of your shirt to attempt to regulate back to a normal temperature.

“It was not a hassle in the slightest,” he waves away, a gentle smile still resting in his expression. He’s leaning forwards on his desk and there’s some undercurrent to him that’s messing you up. Ifrit’s dangling balls, it’s making you melt. Flexing your legs harder together, you take in another breath and storm forward.

“I didn’t sign up for Advanced Theoretical Applied Magic V in time and now I’ve been completely waitlisted, all the way to number 89 and I didn’t know I was supposed to sign up early because I was so distracted in lab this summer so I’m just. I just need to know that there’s something that can be done?” All traces of a smile leave his face as he re-organizes a few items on his desk. The atmosphere shifts considerably as he sits straight up. This must be more of an issue than you’d initially thought.

“I could try to make some phone calls, but I cannot make any promises in this regard,”  _ there’s _ the voice you’re more familiar with. Apparently leaning forward can cause a shift in him. He looks like he’s steadying his breathing before raising his eyebrows at nothing and shaking his head.

“Thank you,” you fold completely over on yourself as you let out your own held breath. You re-adjust yourself to look up at him again.

“Of course,” he smiling but it’s hasn’t reached any part of his face. You feel like you’re seeing the melancholy your twin talked about. It’s like he knows it’s what he should be doing, but it’s not what he wants. You wonder if he’s been doing that to himself a lot lately. Tapping his fingers on his desk in an anxiety you’ve never seen from him, you reach out and stop the movement unable to stand it. There’s a beat of time where he just looks at your hands overlapping before he turns his around and laces his with yours. He sighs, finally getting the words out, “I want to apologize for our... interaction, the other day. I’m not sure of what she told you, but she was unfathomably disrespectful towards you.” This… This spikes your own defenses, but they aren’t coming out to defend your honor.

“I wasn’t the only one being made uncomfortable, Ignis. What was that? She didn’t respect you or your happiness at all,” You watch him deflate slightly on his desk.

“I know,” he sighs out and you squeeze his hand to give him courage. He squeezes back while his other hand braces his head as he leans forward on the desk. No, you do  _ not _ like seeing him looking defeated. You do  _ not _ like this micro-frown on his face.

“Well, quite frankly I don’t know why you’re doing this to yourself. I get that it may not be easy to find someone when you work so much— I mean, I know I suck at it — but that doesn’t mean you have to settle. There’s no need to reach out for someone who’s second best,” you’d forgotten how incredibly comfortable you were around him. You completely disregard that this necessary topic absolutely crosses boundaries. It doesn’t matter that he’s the most attractive man you’ve ever seen, because at the end of the day, that shit  _ doesn’t matter _ . At the end of life, it all fades away into nothing and only the mind and memories you develop are what lie waiting for you.

“Ignis,” Your tone is severe, as if you’re scolding him, “You deserve some damn happiness,” and you release his hand, gesturing for him to stand up. He follows your request. You round his desk, making your approach, “So rather than take the first scraps of it that come your way, you need to take it where it stands, even if it takes time and effort to get there” and you give him the option of stepping towards you, arms outstretched as you offer an embrace.

He moves towards you, his face leaning down close to yours and the first contact is his forehead with the gentle rocking of his nose to yours. Almost nervous hands touch your sides and lose all patience. You pull him in towards you, burying your face in the crook of his shoulder and you allow yourself, a bit selfishly, to indulge in whatever his new cologne is.

It’s a tight hug that you’re not letting him out of when his arms first start to relax, and you squeeze him tighter. You feel the shudder of breath escape him as he fully gives into the encircling grasp, holding you as tightly as he needs. You’re not sure how long it goes on.

This time, when his arms relax you pull away with him. Barely. You are so close to him you can count his eyelashes. You lift your hand up, and with your pointer finger bent but slightly further out that the others, and you make the slight journey tap him in his chest.

“You looked like you needed that,” you smile at him, and he laughs at your quote, resting on your forehead again.

His smoothes your hair down gently, and you close your eyes to the sensation. It’s… so different from when Prom does it you’re a little taken aback. It makes you close your eyes and you feel the warmth of his breath on your lips as his fingers tangle within your locks.

Another heavy breath is released from him making you open your eyes and he is already starting to sit back down. You touch the place where his hand rested and recognize that the touch left a different kind of burn lingering behind. It’s not fair to want him when he’s hurting over someone else, so you try to stuff the feelings down deep.

“I’d best start making these phone calls,” he says, already reaching for his hardline and not looking at you.

“You know I appreciate you endlessly, Dr. Scientia. Ignis,” you bite your lower lip and he turns to look towards you.

“You’ve earned every opportunity I can give you.” 

This admission has you bursting with joy. You yourself excuse yourself from the office as he holds the phone to his ear.

—

_ Foolish _ **.** He was absolutely foolish for thinking the message could have meant anything else. What was he expecting? Some declaration of— amorousness from her? After he’d been working so hard to not call her, to give himself space from wanting her. And she sends him  _ that. _

It immediately gave him so much hope that he actually thought he would have time to leave his office, shower, shave, and get ready in time to meet her back there. And he  _ almost locked the door _ .

He let his face fall into his hands. A heavy sigh escaping him.

No, she had come for help with Ravus again. Then— Ha— Then, when he went to make his apology, she turned it around on him and told him he was worth more than his recurring mistake. 

He knew he was. But it wasn’t fair that her solution was everything that he needed in that moment. He’d gotten so used to hating himself for a few short weeks of salacious fantasy fulfillment, that he’d forgotten that he’s worth being cared about. In his malaise he’d forgotten that  _ she’s _ worth caring about. There’s so much about her that is just. She is everything that is good. He literally felt the proof she  _ does _ care about him. It was proven when she wouldn’t let him go. It nearly broke him.

Then he had to fight for her with Cor. That was a most unusual situation. What had she done to fall out of his good graces? It shouldn’t be so impossible to get permission for her to skip a skill level.

“We’ve already made an exception for her in the past that she’s utilizing again this year. I severely caution her taking on more than she can chew again. She’s dropped from valedictorian to salutatorian. So no, Ignis, I won’t let her skip that class. Not unless you can get me one other signature for agreement, this just isn’t going to happen.”

“We already have mine, Dr. Sania’s, and Dr. Nox Fleuret’s. It’s ridiculous that she should require another.”

“You don’t yet have the signature from the professor she will be skipping ahead on. Listen, you and Ravus already made your recommendations for the Caelum boy and I agreed with it. He overtook her place and as you said when pressing me on him, he’s been putting in the work to get there. School policy has it so that you cannot promote more than one student past their classes without the consent of the instructor in the class they are skipping. You know this, I don’t know why I’m having to explain what others have done for you in the past, Ignis.”

And when he attempted to get the signature from Dr. Izunia, all he was left with was frustration and teasing. “Ah, the first mate of the Buttsexington. What an honor to have you on my deck. Come in, come in, the water is fine,” he can still hear Ardyn’s laughter echoing through the room. In the end, swallowing his pride gave him nothing.

A loud sigh escapes him as he sits up. He smothers his face with his hand before re-applying his glasses.

How can she always tell when he needs assistance? And how does she always know just how to help? He feels such deep frustration when he begins recall that it wouldn’t matter the amount of signatures he received, when only one mattered now. He’s sick over the fact that he had not forgotten. He’d assured Ravus that he could get Ardyn’s signature in an effort to get him to sign for Noctis. Noctis, who’d grown so much so quickly, who knows the kind of monster Ardyn is. Who laid out, in detail, the small facts and logical reasoning that led to the mountain of an explanation as to why he should not be in his class next semester.

He was so convinced he could get that signature.

Now, all he can do is watch from the sidelines as he trips over his own mistakes. He wanted to be there for her.

Perhaps foolish is too weak a word. Helpless seems quite a bit more apt.

—

So. You’re not getting into Ravus’s class.

Wow, just thinking those words makes your heart hurt. As you register for the final class on your roster you realize that the next class you will be taking is— oh gods. It’s with Dr. Izunia. You want to cry— you want to hear anything from Ignis but he already admitted his failing to get you into the class and— Damn it. You don’t know if you can stomach another semester under that man.

You answer your phone on the first ring, despite the fact that it’s not the name that you wanted to read. It lightens your mood regardless because it shows you there is a future after the upcoming semester. You’re going to latch onto that knowledge and let it be your shield. Yeah, you could do another semester. What is the worst that could happen?

“To what do I owe this pleasure, Nyx?” You love that he’s still keeping you updated on the project despite the fact your brief residency in the lab has already ended.

“I just have some incredible news and I haven’t been able to get in touch with Ravus. It’s just, it’s too important and I need him to know right now. Could you let him know that Luna is spoke in full sentences today? It seems like she’s getting better. I mean, she just woke up like two weeks ago, and now she’s speaking! It’s… really encouraging!”

“Wait. Hold on a second here. Who’s Luna?”

“Shit! What? He didn’t… tell you? I— forget I said anything. I thought— I swear you led me to believe that you knew!” 

The line goes dead while you sit in confusion. You’re left with more questions than answers, and you won’t be getting the chance to have them answered for at least another year.

Summer is the worst.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank you for reading!!  
>  <3 <3 <3
> 
> It means the world to me that you’ve chosen to spend some time reading, shit, almost another 20k of words from my brain palace hopefully creating vivid imagery into yours.
> 
> I love you all so much!
> 
> <3 I’d love to hear your thoughts on what the fuck is happening <3
> 
> PS: there will be another small gap in chapter updates as I have a lot going on soon with work! <3 but I promise this fic will get finished!


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